


Since I Met You

by lizwontcry



Category: CSI
Genre: Angst, Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-07
Updated: 2011-01-07
Packaged: 2017-10-14 12:55:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 58,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/149428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizwontcry/pseuds/lizwontcry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sara's mother is sick, and Sara feels like she's finally ready to face the past. But how will that effect her future? A look at Sara and Grissom's past, present and future. Takes place after 7x23.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Letter

Originally written in the summer of 2007.

 **Disclaimer: There would not have been a cliffhanger if I owned the characters and/or the TV show.**

 **Author's Note: I have written a lot of GSR fics, but none of them have really captured the reason why I'm so intrigued by the pairing, why I squee every time they bless us with a GSR moment, why I melted in a puddle of goo when Grissom said she was the only one he ever loved. So this is my attempt to capture that feeling. It's going to be a long one, and I'm looking forward to it. I mean, we all gotta do something to keep ourselves busy until September, right?**

 **Much thanks to GSFanatic for the beta.**

The first time Sara read the letter, she couldn't stop smiling. The second time she read it, she was still smiling, but she was also searching for some kind of clue to what it all meant. She loved the sonnet. She loved how perfectly Shakespeare seemed to summarize Gil's feelings for her while he was away...

 _Thyself away art resent still with me_

 _For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move._

The third time she read the letter, she was kind of annoyed. He wrote it months ago, why was she just now reading it? He obviously meant for her to find it or it wouldn't have been in her book on the bedside table.

 _I don't know why I find it so hard to express my feelings to you,_ it said. _Even though we're far apart, I can see you as clearly as if you were here with me._

She was definitely moved by the words. He could be so sweet when he wanted to. But would it have killed him to maybe have called her while he was at Williams? It's true there was a little distance between them before he left. The miniature killer got inside his head and he spent many sleepless days and nights trying to figure out the reasoning behind it. When Wendy asked Sara a few weeks ago if the miniature killer was keeping him up at night, Sara had been quick to say, "How would I know?" But what she really wanted to say was, "You have no idea, lady. If I didn't have a dog to keep me company, I might as well be alone." She loved Bruno, but it was also nice to have a conversation with the human she pretty much lived with sometimes.

It's not that she minded being alone. Hell, for years, that's all she wanted - to be left alone. She liked to read and sometimes she liked to write. She had journals full of poems and half-written stories. She liked to draw. She liked to watch the Discovery channel. But when she and Grissom started seeing each other, they both slowly let down their walls and allowed each other in. They were both introverts to the core, so it was hard at first. But they were learning how to let each other in while maintaining their desire for alone time. It worked well. But when they were together and he couldn't seem to tear himself away from something or other, whether it was building his own miniature or reading psychology textbooks on serial killers...it was getting to her.

Now, as she waited for him to come home from his house call to Lady Heather, she looked at the letter again, trying to find anything she might have missed. Bruno lay beside her as she read the letter again; snoring peacefully, oblivious to the fact there was anything wrong.

It's not quite that she needed the reassurance, really. She understood her boyfriend's need to be the knight in shining armour. She felt the hint of a smile as she thought about how he came to her house the day Ecklie threatened to fire her, how Grissom probed her for the reasoning behind her blowing up at Catherine in the hall. She told him about her parents, about her mother, about the abuse. It was the first time she told anyone since she left foster care for college. She remembered how, not for the first time, he held her hand for comfort while she cried. It was something she loved about him, the way he wanted to be there for the people who needed it the most but sought his help the least.

But the way Catherine had gone on and on about Heather earlier, and the way Grissom was so intent on helping Heather, and the look in his eyes when he muttered, "Why didn't she fight?" ...Sara was a strong woman. She knew that, everybody knew that. She didn't doubt Grissom's love for her. She made him happy; didn't he just tell her that? But no matter how strong she was, she still had the same kind of feelings any woman would with the knowledge that their lover was spending the night at the house of a dominatrix - frustration, curiosity, and just the hint of a feeling Sara had no use for - jealousy.

She put Grissom's letter back in her book and picked up the other letter. The letter that came in the mail for her just a few days ago. She'd gotten letters from her mother before; they came about once every 4 or 5 months. She never answered them. In all the therapy she received over the years, not one person could tell her what she should say to her mother next. Not one person told her how she could look in her mother's eyes again and not see what happened so many years ago.

Her mother, Laura, was released from prison a few years ago. In her letters, she'd tell Sara how she was adjusting to society, or more likely, how society was adjusting to her. She tried living in San Francisco for a year or two, but the public had not been kind. So she moved to small town in Florida where no one knew her, and she was trying to make a life for herself.

The letters were mostly the same, probably written to make sure Sara was still thinking about her. But this newest letter was different. Something was wrong, and Laura wasn't saying. She mentioned something about a nurse at the hospital, but didn't elaborate any further. As an investigator, Sara knew her mother didn't just mention that as an aside. She was trying to tell her daughter something without really telling her, Laura Sidle's usual maddening way of communicating.

She'd never considered visiting Laura before, but maybe now was as good a time as ever. Maybe she needed a break; a break from the lab, from Vegas, from...Grissom. Their relationship was fine, they were happy. But she sometimes felt like the last thing on his mind; an afterthought. She had fought long and hard for this relationship to happen and she wasn't about the throw it all away on some depressed dominatrix or some wacko miniature maker, but she felt like her mother needed her. And after all this time, after so many years of turning her back on the woman that raised her, she was ready to face her past.


	2. The Letter

Gil Grissom was feeling pretty pleased with himself.

He knew his "friendship" with Lady Heather was damn near scandal, and he didn't care. He wanted to help Heather, and he did. Of course, she'd need extensive therapy after her failed attempt at suicide, he knew that for sure. But he thought giving her a chance to meet her granddaughter would help lead her to the right path. She had someone else to live for now. She had a little piece of her Zoe now, and he felt confident she could put herself back together, with the right help.

Besides, the only person he cared about knowing the truth was Sara, and she understood. Well, she said she understood. The scene in the layout room was a bit tense, but she did tell him to do what he needed to do. And he did, and now it was over with.

He drove his Denali back to the new townhouse, anxious to see Sara and tell her all about it. Her lease on her apartment wouldn't be over for another couple of months, but they were all but living together anyway. They picked out the new house together. When they looked, they both agreed it had to have a big backyard. Neither of them ever had a dog before, and they both wanted the experience, so a backyard was absolutely essential.

They also wanted more space. They wanted at least 3 bedrooms, one of which would be an office, one would be the master bedroom, and the other would be the guest bedroom...for now. They didn't talk about it, but they wanted to have that extra room just in case. When Gil told their real estate agent they wanted 3 bedrooms, she said, "Oh, is one of them going to be a nursery?" Well, she must have registered a horrified look on their faces, so she just kept on talking. "Well, in that case, look at these beautiful Berber carpets..."

He pulled up in the driveway, smiling at Sara's car in the garage. He always smiled when he pulled up and saw her car, because it meant she was inside the house. After all these years, after the neverending tango they did for so long, he was truly coming home. Sara was home to him, no matter where she was.

Bruno bounded up to him the second he opened the door, happy that his owners were both home.

"Hey, boy! Go find mommy! Bring me mommy!" Bruno wasn't sure what to do, so he jumped on Grissom and licked his face.

Grissom found Sara in their bedroom, curled up on the bed reading a book.

"Hi, honey," he said, kissing her forehead.

"Hey," she said, smiling. "How'd it go?"

"Good. I think having her granddaughter in her life will be good for her."

"That's good. She seemed like an intelligent woman, I'd hate to see her try to harm herself again."

Grissom took off his shoes and sat on the bed. He looked at what Sara was reading, some physics textbook or something, and saw that she was using the letter he was too dumb to send her as a bookmark.

"I see you found the letter," he said, grinning just a tad.

"Yes, yes I did. It's beautiful. Can you tell me why you never sent it? I gotta tell you, Griss, I sure could have used it when you were gone."

He sighed. This was still a sore subject. Not that he could blame her; he took the Williams gig without even discussing it with her first, and then he didn't even call her while he was gone. At the time, they were at a point in the relationship where they were going to have to speed things up or slow things down, and he decided to take the easy way out. But that month without her was the most miserable month he had experienced in a long, long time, and he came back refreshed and ready to pick up where he left off. She, however, had been hurt by his rash decision. It took him a while to make it up to her.

"I've asked myself that same question and, well, I don't have an answer. I still don't. I never meant to hurt you with my decision, you know that. I've just gone so long without having to think about anyone else's feelings, and I guess...I guess I chickened out."

He moved over to get closer to her. He put his arm around her, but she seemed unusually stiff. Oh, God. What did I do now? He thought.

"Is there something we need to talk about?" He asked cautiously.

"Yes, actually...there is." She looked like she was about to say something else, but then stopped. He was just going to have to guess.

"Sara...I thought you understood why I went to Heather's. I never would have gone if I thought you weren't okay with it-"

"No, it's not about that!" She said, getting that look in her eyes that he hated, the look that meant he was definitely in trouble. "Well, maybe it is, a little. It's just that...every time I think we're on the same page, you go on a sabbatical or to a dominatrix's house or just...something! I knew from the start that you weren't going to turn into someone who can express his feelings at the drop of a hat, but, Grissom...I'm tired of being your afterthought. I need more."

He didn't even know what to say. Why did she do that? Why did she bottle it up and then explode at the least likely moment?

"Griss...I need a favor. I'm asking this not as your employee, but as your friend. I want to take a leave of absence. Starting on Monday."

"Where are you going?" He asked, trying not to let his voice reveal how horrified he was. "What-why?"

She took the other letter, the one from her mother, off her bedside table and handed it to him. He put his glasses on and read it silently.

"Your mother? You've gotten letters like these before, why do you have to go now?"

"This one's different. There's something wrong, and I want to face her before I lose the chance."

Grissom did not approve. The day he learned about Sara's mother, he felt a compassion, a feeling of protection he never knew existed. He didn't want Sara to put herself in that situation ever again. But he knew he couldn't always protect her, especially now that he was apparently on her bad side.

"How much time off do you need?" He asked shakily.

"I did some research on the Family and Medical Leave Act, and that gives me 12 weeks. So...12 weeks, probably."

"What? That's 3 months! Sara...what...I don't know...are you...leaving me?" He finally managed to ask.

She suddenly looked a lot less angry. She took his hand, and then kissed him softly.

"I'm not leaving you. I thought about it, but we've both worked too hard to get to this point. I'm not ready to say good-bye, remember?"

He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"What if I said I didn't want you to go?" He asked, looking her in the eye.

She didn't look away as she said, "What if I told you I didn't want you to go to Massachusetts? You never asked me, Griss. It doesn't work like that now. My mother is sick, and she needs me."

"I need you," he said softly. "I want to fight for you."

She smiled, that beautiful gap-toothed smile he adored from day one. Ah, how he loved that smile.

"You don't have to fight for me anymore," she said. "This is just a break. You did what you had to do, now I have to do what I have to do."

He finally nodded.

"Okay. I'll tell Ecklie. But promise you'll call me, okay? Promise we won't lose touch?"

"You have my word. And if I send you a cocoon, I'll make sure to write a letter to send with it."

He frowned, and she laughed.

"Now, let me show you what I have to do right now," she said in her "do me now" voice that he had come to love. Before he could say another word, her mouth was on his, and his thoughts immediately turned to her soft skin, the warmth of her body reacting to his hands, the soft moans she cried out while he explored every inch of her with his tongue, and her final climatic cries as the day turned into night.


	3. The Handouts

Chapter 3 - The handouts

 _1995_

It was definitely not love at first sight. Many years later they'd be able to laugh about it, but at the time, neither of them could find the humor in the situation.

Sara was in her second year of graduate school at Berkeley, getting her graduate degree in theoretical physics. She found physics to be not only fascinating, but oddly calming as well. Physics made sense to her. Physics gave her something to do with her brain other than think about the obvious, and that was particularly satisfying to her.

She had a hard time making friends because she was always so busy, but sometimes she thought she was so busy because she had a hard time making friends. Sometimes it was frustrating, this need to cram her brain full of knowledge in order to keep her mind occupied. But she found when she was in a social situation, the talk always somehow turned into what the others did before coming to college, and she didn't have much to contribute to that conversation. She never felt comfortable enough to tell a semi-stranger, "Well, when I was young? My dad knocked around my mom. Sometimes he went for my brother and me, too. Then my mom got really pissed off and killed him in a fit of anger. Oh, and growing up in foster homes was totally awesome!" No, she wasn't quite comfortable indulging that kind of information.

So Sara's graduate school experience at Berkeley went much the same way it did her 4 years at Harvard: she went to class. She went to the library. Sometimes she'd go to a lecture if it sounded interesting. When she read about the seminar on the forensics of a double murder by a respected entomologist, she took note. Her graduate studies were coming to a close and she still wasn't sure what path to take. She could easily be a physicist in a lab, but recently she had become interested in law enforcement. She read something in a physics journal about how scientists were solving crimes, and how new technology was making that happen.

She was actually looking forward to the seminar. She asked some of her professors about Dr. Gil Grissom, the entomologist, and they all had exceptional things to say about him. He was apparently a crime scene investigator in Las Vegas, one of the most respectable crime labs in the country.

The first day of the seminar, she arrived early and sat in the front, something she always did, not only because she sometimes had bad vision and needed to sit in the front to see, but because she always seemed to have a lot of questions and the teachers got annoyed if she was sitting in the back.

After a few minutes of going over some notes from her other classes, a man who was presumably Dr. Gil Grissom entered the classroom. She was the only one who had made it so far; there was still 10 minutes until class started. She glanced at him while he unpacked his things, and smiled appreciatively. He was in his late thirties, early forties, and was already going gray. He looked like he once had a muscular build but hadn't been able to make it to the gym in a few years. He wore glasses which highlighted his blue eyes. And, from what she could tell, he had a nice ass.

Once he unpacked his things, he finally turned around and saw her sitting in the front row. She hoped he didn't notice her giving him the once over.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Grissom. Are you the TA they sent over for me?"

She opened her mouth to protest but he went on.

"Could you pass out these handouts when the students get here? I know they might look a little complicated, but I'll explain them."

Curiously, she looked down at the handouts. They were basic information on forensics, with math and science and everything else thrown in. Basic equations she could do in the dark.

"Oh, and when you pass those out, do you think you can get me some coffee, too? I meant to get some before I got here, but I was running a little late."

He smiled at her, a killer smile that almost made her forget how much she wanted to kick him in the head.

He turned around, apparently done talking to her. She cleared her throat loudly and he turned back around.

"Uh, Dr. Grissom, my name's Sara Sidle. I have a bachelor's degree in physics, and I'm about to get my graduate degree in theoretical physics. These handouts seem pretty basic to me. And no, I won't hand them out. And I probably won't be getting you any coffee, either."

And what killed her was he didn't even look embarrassed in the slightest. He just chuckled and said, "Oh, well, thanks for coming early. I guess my TA will be here soon, huh?" And that was the end of that conversation.

She wanted to hate him and she wanted to discredit everything he said. But in spite of herself, she was actually fascinated by his lecture. He was smart, witty, and an expert in the subject. She found herself captivated by the whole idea of science and forensics, and by the time he finished talking, she was pretty sure she knew what she was going to be doing with her life. The man was quite persuasive, if not completely cocky and annoying.

When the seminar was over for the day, most of the students cleared out. Some stuck around to ask Dr. Grissom some questions, but they too soon cleared out. She was again the only student left in the classroom, and Dr. Grissom gave her an apologetic smile.

"Do you have a question, Miss Sidle?"

 _How in the hell does he remember my name?_ she thought, trying to fight off a smile. What was it about this guy?

"Well, yes, actually. I have a lot of questions, and not just on this seminar. I heard you were a crime scene investigator, using science to solve crimes. I was thinking about a career in physics. You know, white coat, lab, beakers. But I think investigating might be a better use of my time."

Gil Grissom was intrigued by this woman. She couldn't be more than 24 years old. She was beautiful, although there wasn't anything graceful about her. She had a strange gap-toothed smile that he found particularly endearing. He was embarrassed about how he mistook her for a teaching assistant, but most of the students at his seminars came in right on time or 5 minutes late. He enjoyed how she told him off. She reminded him of his coworker and dear friend Catherine Willows. He didn't meet a lot of strong-minded women, so this Sara Sidle definitely caught his attention.

He suggested they go get something to eat because he was starving. She told him there was a great Chinese place just around the corner.

"You look like a burger guy, but I'm really trying to eat less meat these days," she told him. He chuckled and let her lead him to the Chinese restaurant.

After they ordered, Gil said, "Miss Sidle, I obviously need to apologize for earlier. You know what they say about assuming things."

"That it's a total cliche? Oh, and it's Sara, by the way. And it's okay. Your fascinating lecture more than made up for your little mistake," she said, batting her eyelashes in a delightfully cute manner.

Man, this woman had a nerve, he thought. Moving on, he asked a safer question.

"So when did you decide you wanted a career in law enforcement?"

Sara smiled. He could definitely appreciate that woman's beautiful smile. He made a note to make her smile more often.

"Since I met you, of course," she said, winking at him. "Actually, about halfway through your lecture.

Gil couldn't help it - he snorted. He managed not to snort the water he was drinking out of his nose, but it was a close call.

"Wow, I must be a better speaker than I thought," he said, grinning.

"You're very persuasive, Dr. Grissom," she said, grinning back.

"Please, call me Gil."

"Hmm. I don't know, that sounds kind of formal, really...how about we compromise and I call you Griss?"

"That'll work, I suppose."

"In all seriousness, I've been reading about using science in the field of law enforcement, and I got hooked. I have a strong belief in the justice system, and if I could possibly be a part of that while using science at the same time, that would be amazing. Just...amazing," she said with more conviction than Gil had seen anyone talk about anything with in a long, long time. This woman was like a breath of fresh air.

Over the next couple of days, she would come early to his lecture and take notes vigorously the whole time he talked. Afterwards, they'd eat lunch together while she asked him question after question. She begged him to tell her to shut up if she got annoying, but he just found her refreshing. He enjoyed answering her thoughtful questions. And, well, he enjoyed her. A lot. Definitely too much. It was a good thing he was leaving in a few days, or he would probably get himself in trouble. They had a comfortable rapport with a pinch of flirtation added in to make things interesting. He was intrigued by how fascinated she seemed to be in his field of expertise. She seemed to enjoy his company and his intellect. If she were just a few years older, and he just a bit younger...he would have thought it to be a perfect match. But he felt like he was turning out to be her mentor, and he didn't want to jeopardize that relationship with any hasty moves. Still, no matter how hard they tried to avoid it, their friendship had a deep sexual undercurrent they both tried their hardest to ignore.

On the last day of his seminar, he told her before class started, "I have some things I need to take care of after class. How about I take you to dinner?"

She smiled and said, "Of course, that would be great." She wrote down her address for him, and they smiled peacefully at each other.

He picked her up at 8:00 on the dot. He tried not to notice how absolutely sexy she was looking in her flimsy tank top and swishy little skirt. _Is she trying to drive me crazy?_ He thought impatiently.

"Um, I brought you this," he said, handing her a perfect red rose. "Honestly, I saw it growing in your neighbor's yard and I kind of stole it."

She giggled, a sexy throaty sound that made him just the slightest bit crazy.

"Thank you! It's beautiful. Why don't we go to the pizza place down the street? It's a nice night, we can walk."

He found himself wanting to hold her hand or put his arm around her on the walk to the restaurant. It felt like a date, but it couldn't be. He was leaving in the morning, nothing could happen to indicate there'd be anything interesting between them. He did want to help her out professionally, though. He made a few calls earlier that day, and he felt like he had good news for her.

As soon as they sat down, he told her, "I talked to a colleague of mine. Dr. Martin Thornton, earlier. He's head of the crime lab in San Francisco. I told him about you, and he said you should definitely check them out after you get your graduate degree. They always need intelligent people with a nose for science up there."

And then she smiled again, a smile so beautiful he almost had to look away. How could he leave this enchanting woman behind?

"I don't even know what to say, Griss. Why would you do that for me? I'm...touched."

"Well, I feel like I owe it to the world to give them someone as bright and intelligent as you are. And I feel I owe it to you to give you a chance in the field you're interested in. We need you, whether you know it or not." _I need you._ He tried to put a stop to that particular thought, and fast.

"Thank you, really. I graduate in a few months, I'll give him a call."

They smiled at each other, and thankfully the pizza came right at that moment. After that, they managed to talk about neutral things, like music and movies. But the undercurrent was still there, and not to be ignored.

They walked back to her apartment slowly, not talking much, letting the night breeze surround them. He did not want to let this woman out of his sight, but he had to. He had a crime lab to get back to. He had a life to get back to, a simple, uncomplicated life that had been working well for him for many years.

When they arrived at her door, they both looked at each other expectantly.

"Griss, I can't tell you how much I enjoyed your lectures. You really opened a new door for me and I will always be grateful to you for that."

"Of course, Sara. Keep in touch, okay? I want to know how it works out."

She smiled at him again, but this time it was different. It was a sensual smile. It was a smile that said, "if you don't kiss me in the next 5 minutes, you will regret it for the rest of your life." It was the only thing he wanted to do at that moment, and it was the last thing he could do. He couldn't kiss her. Not like this. And he had the feeling that if he did kiss her, he'd never want to leave her.

"Sara...I can't. I'm sorry."

He had to look away from the hurt and disappointment in her eyes. It was just too much.

"I understand, Griss," she said. But her eyes told a different story.

She smiled awkwardly and turned away from him, fumbling with her keys to open the door.

He put a hand on her arm. She looked up at him with her deliscious brown eyes.

"You are amazing. In every way. I have to go."

"Don't forget about me," she said softly.

"Never," he said. And then he walked away.


	4. Leaving on a Jet Plane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> B Thanks for the feedback, guys, I appreciate it. I enjoy writing this story and I hope you enjoy reading it! I always appreciate comments and observations. As always, thanks to GSFanatic for the beta. /B

B Thanks for the feedback, guys, I appreciate it. I enjoy writing this story and I hope you enjoy reading it! I always appreciate comments and observations. As always, thanks to GSFanatic for the beta. /B

I 2007 /I

Sara had been sitting at the computer for so long, her retinas were hurting. She took another sip of coffee and tried to ignore the sense of dread that was starting to make her queasy. Bruno lay on the floor of Grissom and Sara's shared office, watching both of them, drooling and content.

The internet had not been much help in finding Laura Sidle, but Sara was really just delaying the inevitable. She knew she could find her mother pretty easily. From the postmark on the most current letter, Sara knew Laura lived in Ocala, Florida. It wasn't that big of a city, so she also knew she could call a hospital or two and find out the information quickly.

Or, she could always call her brother.

Sara sighed. Gil looked up from the miniature model of the office he was building for a reason Sara wasn't really sure of exactly, and said, "You know, just give me the word and Jim and I can make some calls and find where your mother is in minutes."

She smiled, happy that he was trying to help her out in his own way.

"I know, and I appreciate that. But I should probably call Robbie. I haven't talked to him, well, since I came to Vegas."

When Sara decided to join Grissom's team and make the move out to Las Vegas permanent, she decided to cut ties with her brother and almost everyone else from her past. She wanted to make a new start, leave the past behind her. It had been easier than she thought it would be, and really, no one had been surprised, especially not Robbie.

When they were taken to 2 different foster homes after the untimely death of their father and subsequent sentencing of their mother, it was hard to get in touch with each other. It was difficult, this separation, but they both were at a point in their lives where they had to toughen up. Her brother was a few years older than Sara and should have known better than to get caught up in the trials of foster life, but he made some bad choices and ended up in juvenile before he could even drive. Sara, however, tried to ignore what was happening around her and immerse herself in school. If she wanted to make something of herself, rise above her childhood, she was going to have to study. She was going to have to get out of this city. She was going to have to make it. Her excellent grades weren't because she was especially smart - it was because she had to do something to distract herself or she didn't know what would happen to her, where she'd end up.

After Sara had been at Harvard for a few years, she flew him in one cold, wet winter and they spent one week together. Half the week was spent bonding; laughing about life in foster care and just catching up on their lives. The other half was spent brooding about their past and the scene they shared together; that horrifying day when their mother decided the end their father's abuse once and for all.

"Do you remember that young cop that couldn't stop throwing up all over the place?" Sara asked her brother during the week he was visiting. They were sitting on her smelly little sofa in her dorm room, watching the news on TV. There was a story about a woman on trial for murdering her boyfriend with a hunting rifle. The woman claimed it was in self defense. One of the lawyers asked, "If it was self defense, why did you shoot him 38 times?"

"No...no, I don't remember him. I remember the detective, though, the one that came to ask us questions once they took mom away. He was trying so hard to be nice to us while still trying to get important information. I remembered I wanted to go live with him because he cared so much. I cried when he left and they took us to foster care," he said, never taking his eyes off the TV.

They remembered different things, but they both remembered the important things: the sound their father made when Laura plunged the knife deep into his heart. How loud the sirens were after a concerned neighbor called 9-1-1. The look on their mother's face both before and after it happened. Before, it was a look of resignation. It was a look that seemed to say, "What can I do?" It was a look of defeat. After it happened, she actually seemed content. She had kind of a permanent smile that disturbed Sara and Robbie to their inner cores. Sara had that look ingrained in her mind.

They stayed in touch after his week in Boston, but he started going downhill after that. Drugs, gambling, women, the whole deal. They didn't talk for a year, and then he came out to see her again. He asked her for money, she said no, and that was the end of that. Sara blamed it on Sidle pride, a term she and her brother used to describe their equal stubbornness. They unfortunately got that from their father.

He tried to contact her a few times after that and when she was in grad school, she went to visit him. They talked on the phone sometimes. But after a while, Sara found it exhausting to try to stay in touch with Robbie. He was such a huge reminder of her past; a past she was desperate to forget.

She received a letter from him once a year now. He said he moved to Miami and visited Laura every couple of months. He said she was dying to see Sara, and even though he knew Sara was weary about it, it gave him the closure he needed to get himself together. He included his phone number in every letter, just in case she wanted to talk. She never did, until now.

00000000000000

"I'm going to call him," Sara told Grissom now. "I need to. I'm going to need him to be there with me."

Grissom was quiet for a second, and she could somehow sense what he was about to say.

"And, no, I don't need you to be there, Griss. I need to do this without you."

"And I respect that. I'm just going to miss you. Bruno's going to miss you."

At the sound of his name, Bruno looked up to see what his owner was talking about. He realized that nothing was being requested of him or offered to him, so he put his head back down.

Grissom left his miniature and came over to Sara, rubbing her shoulders.

"Mmm, that's nice."

They were both quiet for a moment.

"Griss, when I come back, we have to tell everyone about us. I hate keeping secrets from our friends, and it's been going on long enough, don't you think?"

"I know, honey, I know. We'll tell them as soon as you get back."

She turned around to face him, and he gave her a small but lovely kiss. She smiled.

"Have I told you today how much I love it when you smile?"

"No, not today. But it's still early."

He gave her another kiss, and said, "Ooh, the baseball game's on. I'll be in the bedroom if you need me."

She shook her head. Typical. She was about to make a life changing phone call and he had to go watch the Cubs.

Sighing, she picked up the phone to call Robbie. She hoped it would go to voicemail and then the ball would be in his court.

He picked up on the first ring.

"Sara, is it really you?"

"It's me, Robbie. I'm ready. I'm ready to see her."

00000000000000

A few days later, Sara was on a plane to San Francisco. Grissom talked to Ecklie about Sara's leave of absence, and Ecklie approved it without much fanfare for once. After they heard the news, Nick, Warrick and Greg bugged her repeatedly about where she was going and why she was going there, and wouldn't she miss them? She had laughed and said of course she would, and she meant it. She didn't know what she'd do without her boys.

Catherine didn't press her for information. She had a strange look in her eye, like she knew exactly why Sara was leaving.

"Sara, whatever you're leaving behind here...if it's for real, it'll be here when you get back," she said. Even thought she knew Catherine didn't know about Grissom, Sara was grateful for her words. She even hugged Catherine, and it wasn't as weird as the two of them always thought it would be.

After a long shift that yielded no results in catching the criminal of the day, Grissom took Sara to the airport. She said she could take a cab, but he wouldn't have it. They both remembered his last day in Vegas before his sabbatical, and how he only had to time say "I'll miss you," before the cab took him away from her.

They were mostly quiet on the drive to the airport, having said pretty much everything they needed to already. But after she checked her bags in and he was as far as he could go without buying a ticket, he turned to her and said, "Sara, be careful out there. You don't have to feel obligated to her. I know you feel you have to help her. You are a nurturer, Sara, and that's something I love about you. But be careful. Don't let her turn you into something you're not, okay?"

Sara nodded, not knowing what to say. She was about to turn around and go, knowing that he wasn't the type to get sappy at airports. But, she thought later, people do change.

"Hey, wait a second," he said. He grabbed her and kissed her in a way that turned her knees to jelly. People were openly staring at them, but Grissom didn't seem to mind.

"Just something to remember me by," he whispered in her ear. "I love you, honey. Be careful."

"I love you, too, babe. You be careful too. Get some sleep, okay? No staying up for 24 hours building a miniature. I'm watching."

He smiled and gave her a peck on the lips. "I'll see what I can do."

She turned away because she had to, and walked away from him. When she turned around a few seconds later to blow him a kiss, he was already gone.

00000000000000

After a relatively easy and turbulence-free flight, Sara's plane landed in Ocala. She was surprised and delighted to see her brother waiting for her as she got off the plane.

"Hey, guy!" She said, giving him a hug even though they were not a touchy-feely family. "How did you get here without having to buy a ticket?"

"I just got in from Miami myself," Robbie said. "As soon as you said you were coming, I called work and asked for a couple of weeks off. I didn't want you to have to do this alone."

"But you did," she pointed out.

"You're here now, that's all that matters." He smiled at her, and she smiled back. Her brother had changed, and she was happy for him.

He looked good, too. He was tall, like her, and also had dark brown hair, which used to be long and stringy but now was short and wavy. He had the look of confidence that working out brought out in people. He looked healthy and happy, and Sara beamed with pride.

They rented a car, an ugly brown Ford Focus. Robbie took the wheel and said, "So do you want to go Rachel's house first or the hospital first?"

Robbie's ex-girlfriend Rachel was out of the country for a few months, and was very graciously letting Sara use the house while she was gone.

"I want to go the hospital. I need to see her. I need to know what's going on."

Robbie sighed.

"Okay, I know you want to know what's happening with her, so here's the deal. Mom...well, mom has a brain tumor."

Sara gasped loudly. She was shocked. She was not used to being shocked.

"How long has she known?"

"About a month. The doctor says it's definitely malignant, and she has about 3 to 6 months left. She didn't mention it in her letter because she didn't want you to know. She said something about not wanting to interrupt your life, wanting you to make the decision on your own or something."

Sara felt a sudden rush of total and complete overwhelming guilt. How could she have abandoned her mother for so long?

"I know what you're thinking, and don't feel guilty. You had to do what you had to do, Sara. But I'm glad you're back because...you can't keep reliving what happened. At some point in our lives, we have to move on and find our own way, free of the past, you know?"

She looked at him, really looked at him.

"When did you get so philosophical?" She asked, a playful smile on her face.

"It's a recent development," he said, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Well, we have a few weeks together, I'll drag it out of you sooner or later."

They both chuckled. They made small talk on the drive to the hospital, trying to avoid the heavy stuff until they arrived at the hospital.

30 minutes later, they arrived at their destination. It looked like most hospitals did in Sara's mind - depressing and bleak.

"Well, are you ready?" Robbie asked her before they got out of the car.

Sara exhaled. "Yes. I'm ready."

Robbie led her inside the hospital to Laura Sidle's room. Sara stared at the door for a good minute before Robbie put his hand on her back and said, "Come on, let's do this. I'm right here with you."

Robbie walked in first, Sara closely behind him. Sara tried not to gasp again as she saw the shell of her mother lying in bed.

It had been nearly 25 years since she last saw Laura, and time had not been on Laura's side. Her tumor did her no favors, but Sara could tell the years had been rough on her mother as well. 20 years in a women's prison, 5 years of trying to adjust to society...it had taken a toll.

Sara didn't know Robbie was holding her hand until he squeezed it. She gave him a grateful smile.

Laura had her eyes closed. Sara was about to whisper to Robbie that she was asleep and maybe they should come back later when Laura stirred, opened her eyes and said, "Sara Sidle, aren't you going to give your mother a hug?"

Robbie chuckled. Sara looked at him and he shrugged. "Go," he mouthed to her.

She went.

Hugging her mother was not weird. It was not awkward. It was right. It was natural. It was nice.

"Thanks for coming, Sara. I know it wasn't easy for you."

"I'm here, mother, that's all that matters," she said, echoing Robbie's words.

"I have a request to ask the two of you," she said. "And you have to do it because I'm an old lady and you have to take care of me." She tried to say it in tone that meant she was joking, but they didn't laugh. They couldn't laugh…

"What is it, mom?" Robbie asked, moving to the side of her bed to hold her hand. Sara was almost jealous at how easy it seemed for him.

"I want you to take me back to San Francisco," she said. "I want to go home."

Sara nodded, like she expected it. In a way, she did.

"Okay, mother. Let's go home."


	5. Norman Fell

**A/N: For the record, I know nothing about physics. I took one class in like ninth grade. So I'd like to thank the internet for helping me with some of this chapter.  
**

Chapter 5 - _Vegas: Year One_

When anyone asked Sara why she moved to Vegas, she always said something like, "Oh, San Francisco didn't hold anymore challenges for me, so I wanted to pick up in a new city." It was a perfectly logical answer, but unfortunately it was a lie. She came to Vegas for Gil Grissom, and she stayed in Vegas for him, too.

In the 5 years since they'd met, she started her career at the San Francisco Crime Lab, climbing the ladder faster than anyone they'd ever seen. She solved a record number of cases, even as a rookie. And at the end of a long, tough day, she always wanted to tell Grissom about it.

At first, they'd call each other every couple of weeks. Sara was busy trying to make a career while also trying to maintain a life, but she always looked forward to his phone calls. Sometimes they'd talk for 5 minutes, sometimes for 2 or 3 hours. Gil would tell her about what was going on in Vegas. He'd tell her about the cases he and his co-worker Catherine Willows had just solved. He told her about his boss, Jim Brass, and how awfully burned out he seemed to be. He'd talk about the new CSIs that were hired, Nick and Warrick, and how well they were doing. Sara would tell him about the legendary Martin Thornton and how much he was teaching her. She told him about vomiting for hours after she viewed her first autopsy. He would give her valuable advice, she would make him laugh with some dumb joke one of the lab techs told her. She told him everything but how much she missed him.

She couldn't get Gil Grissom out of her head. That night he left her by her apartment door, the night he almost kissed her...she couldn't forget. It's not that she didn't go on dates; by that time, she was building quite a collection of discarded men. Most of them bailed after they saw how her career consumed her. Some stuck around, only to be dismissed when she found some fatal flaw they seemed to possess. Whether it was because of how loudly they snored during that rare invitation to spend the night or how they liked to dip French fries in mayonnaise, which Sara thought was disgusting, they all seemed to receive their walking papers sooner or later.

But Grissom, he was different. He got her, he understood what made her tick. At one of their post-seminar lunches, he asked her a question about physics. She noticed how his eyes lit up as she talked about her thesis on the Michelson–Morley experiment from 1887. He seemed to know a little something about it, and to her delight, she was actually having an intellectual discussion on physics with someone other than a physics major. To Sara, discussing theories on luminiferous aether was almost better than sex.

Her co-workers at the lab were all very intelligent and did find herself participating in quite a few discussions about crime and punishment and the justice system. Martin taught her many, many things about being a good CSI, and her younger colleagues were all fun to joke around with and have the occasional beer with after a shift. One of her colleagues in particular, Chris, showed an interest in her that wasn't purely platonic, and she enjoyed harmlessly flirting with him. But she didn't have the rapport with anyone that she did with Grissom. In fact, in the 5 years leading up to her move to Vegas, she frequently found herself disappointed in how, well, nobody seemed to measure up to Gil. It was absolutely maddening. Nobody had ever had this kind of effect on her before, not even her college boyfriend she dated for almost 3 years.

After a year or two of phone calls, they resorted to frequently emailing each other. She looked forward to his emails the way she did his phone calls. He expressed himself better through writing, she always thought.

A few years after Sara started at the crime lab in San Francisco, she had a particularly bad day. It was yet another domestic violence case, and she took it pretty hard. The husband killed his wife in cold blood and then threw her off the Golden Gate bridge. The bitch of it was, there were almost 20 calls to the police in the past 2 months from that house, and only twice did the police come to see what happened, and twice they were sent away by the husband. _She must have spent her last months in a constant state of terror,_ Sara thought sadly.

When she got home from the long, gruelling, heartbreaking shift, she wrote an email to Grissom. Writing him or talking to him always helped to calm her nerves.

 _Grissom,_

 _Today was a pretty tough day. Sometimes I wonder how much of a difference we're making when people will still go out of their way to take someone else's life. I know we speak for the dead and that does bring a great deal of satisfaction to me personally, but sometimes I wish we could have gotten there before there was anybody to speak for. See, I'm so upset I actually ended a sentence with a preposition._

 _\- Sara_

Just an hour later, she received his reply.

 _Sara,_

 _You know you're human when you have days like the one you had today. If you didn't feel that way, you know you've been doing it too long. I have long ago developed a thick skin to the more uncomfortable things in life, but that doesn't keep me from feeling empathy. I empathize with you, Sara, and I hope this doesn't deter you from this line of work. The victims need you more than you know of. See, I ended a sentence with a preposition to make you feel better. Anyway, the people who aren't able to speak for themselves need you to speak for them. If you don't, who else will?_

 _-Grissom_

Over the past few years, she noticed that he didn't always know what to tell her. But when she really needed it, when she felt like no one else could possibly understand what she was going through, he always knew the right thing to say.

 _September - 2000_

"Martin, are we good? I'm exhausted!" Hannah Tucker said, looking at her boss and co-workers in agony. "I just pulled a triple, right after doing that double a few days ago. I'm hurting, you guys."

Martin Thornton looked at his tired employees and said, "Yes, all of you, get out of here. Good work on the Gibson case, everyone, thank you for all your hard work."

"Sara, are you ready to get out of here?" Chris asked, giving her a private grin that wasn't lost on anybody.

"Oh, yeah, let me just check my email really quick," she said.

"You can use the computer in my office," Hannah said, winking at her. "It's faster than yours."

She and Hannah made a quick exit. When they got to Hannah's office, Hannah locked the door while Sara sat at her desk and logged on to her email.

"What is it, Hannah? I know you didn't get me in here to talk about the Gibson case," Sara said, keeping her eye on the computer.

"I want to know about Chris. I want to know all about Chris."

Sara raised an eyebrow.

"Don't give me that look, he's been after you for years. Tell me what's happening with the two of you. There's a different atmosphere when you two are in a room together now!"

Hannah was significantly older than Sara but she still loved gossip as much as anyone. Sara knew if she didn't tell her, Hannah would find out somehow anyway. She was, after all, a trained investigator.

"Okay, all right. He took me out the other night to a movie and dinner. And then we kissed. A lot. And we've been kissing...a lot...ever since then."

Hannah squealed like a teenager.

"Is he a good kisser? Sara, come on, tell me everything! He's a very attractive young man, you know!"

Chris was attractive if you liked conventional good looks, Sara always thought. He was tall, dark hair, dark eyes, the usual. He was a good investigator but had the tendency to get a little cocky. Sara did not enjoy that particular habit of his, but she was bored and a little lonely these days, and Chris was something different.

"He's a good kisser, the kind of good that really only comes from lots of practice, I think."

Sara had deleted all her emails when a brand new one appeared in her inbox. As she saw who it was from, she couldn't help herself - she audibly giggled.

"Oh, what?" Hannah said. "Did you and Chris do something else I should know about?"

Sara grinned and shook her head. "No, no, I just have an email from someone...that I enjoy getting emails from."

Hannah sighed. "Don't tell me, it's that strange little entomologist of yours from Vegas, right?"

Sara just nodded.

"Well, what does he have to say this time?"

Sara read through the email. And then she read through it again to make sure she was reading the words right.

"Grissom wants me to come to Vegas. Soon. To help investigate one of his CSIs."

Before Hannah could even react, Sara vanished out of her office. She vanished out of the building. And eventually, she vanished out of San Francisco.

0000000000000000000

It was only supposed to be temporary. When Grissom got the call from Sara about his email, he told her that Warrick Brown, one of the young CSIs he was always mentioning in his emails, had left a brand new CSI alone at a crime scene. The suspect came back to the scene of the crime when Holly Gribbs, the new CSI, was processing it. The suspect and Holly got into an altercation, and he left her for dead. Grissom wanted to know why Warrick wasn't there. What was he doing that was so important? He told her that he could have Nick or Catherine investigate it, but he wanted someone from the outside.

To add to the frustration, he was now the supervisor of Graveyard. His predecessor, Jim Brass, was demoted to homicide detective thanks to the unfortunate Holly Gribbs situation. He was in over his head, and he needed help from someone he could trust.

After he called Sara and filled her in on the details, he wondered about what he had just done. Sure, he was definitely in a bind, and he needed someone from the outside, someone not personally involved, to step in and help him out. He even made a list of 5 strong candidates that could help. She wasn't on the list. But something inside him needed to see her again. Something inside him knew he needed her, and not just to investigate Warrick Brown.

It was dangerous, and he wasn't sure what was going to happen. He was 15 years older than her, at least. He would be her boss. He was still her mentor and took that role seriously. But the times he had thought back to that night he almost kissed her was for sure running in the thousands by now. Gil Grissom was not an impulsive man, and to have these thoughts about a young woman that in all honesty he didn't know very well threw him for a loop.

He reassured himself by thinking she was the right person to bring in. She was intelligent, thoughtful, and according to his colleague Martin Thornton, she was an excellent CSI.

"I do have to warn you about something though, Gil," Dr. Thornton told him on the phone. "She can get very emotionally attached to the victim. I've tried to talk to her about it, but it's hard. It's like she takes these things personally."

"Does it affect her work?" Gil asked, worried.

"Well, that's the thing. I think, if anything, it makes her better at what she does. It's amazing what she can do with a case, Gil. She's so good it's scary sometimes."

When Gil hung up, he smiled. He was proud of Sara, even if he was a little worried about her.

Soon, he found himself at a crime scene using dummies to simulate a fall from the top of a hotel.

"Norman pushed," he said, looking at the dummy that was pushed off the roof. "Norman jumped, Norman fell."

"Wouldn't you if you were married to Mrs. Roper?" Came a voice from behind him. Not just a voice, but _the_ voice. The voice that haunted him when he closed his eyes before he went to bed. The voice he heard in the morning when he woke up. When he talked to her on the phone ever so often, it was the voice that kept him warm. It was the voice that made him feel like he was home. _Christ,_ he thought. _Even when she's making a ridiculous joke about Three's Company in the middle of my crime scene, she's still endearing as hell._

"I don't even have to turn around. Sara Sidle," he said, turning around anyway.

"That's me," she said, grinning.

Oh, what a sight for his sore eyes. He hadn't seen her in 5 years but she still looked like the same inquisitive college girl he had once known.

They bantered about how he didn't rely on new technology and how he was old school. She seemed to like that about him. They talked about Holly a little. She made him feel confident that she could take this investigation and run with it.

So Sara came into his world and made herself known. She investigated Warrick Brown without much trouble; it turned out he was at a casino making bets when Holly was attacked. This saddened Gil more than he thought it would, especially when he made Nick Stokes a CSI level 3, an honor that should have gone to Warrick as well.

It didn't come as much of a surprise to either of them when he asked Sara to come to Vegas permanently. He apologized to Martin, who said, "She's been here 5 years, Gil. I was lucky we had her for that long." He watched as Sara settled in and found a rapport with her co-workers. He knew Catherine might not enjoy having another female in her territory, but after Sara helped her bust the man who killed Holly Gribbs, Catherine seemed to warm up to the new girl. He fought off jealousy as she and Nick flirted back and forth. He cringed when he saw her relationship with Warrick was obviously rocky for a while, but eventually, even they developed an interesting friendship.

As for their relationship, he found himself still taking on the role as her mentor. He saw what a great CSI she was, but he also saw what areas she could use some improvement in. She did take things too seriously sometimes. She did get far too emotionally involved in the cases. She had a habit of calling a scene before they even looked for evidence, which is something he talked to her about a number of times.

"I keep trying to be your star pupil," she told him once.

"Sara, that was a seminar," he had told her gently. "This is real."

They enjoyed a casual flirtation as they did back in San Francisco. As was also the case in San Francisco, their relationship was filled with sexual undertones that never quite seemed to fade. Such as when she asked him to tape her hands together so she could show him that one particular victim might have been lying when she said the suspect had bound her hands together. For months, he couldn't stop dreaming about what else he could have done while her hands were taped together.

It wasn't like he was desperate for female attention, either. He and one of the lab techs had a few dates before Sara came to town, but that didn't work out. There was Teri Miller, a forensic anthropologist he had a slight interest in, but she was hardly ever in town. There was no lack of females in his life, but none of them gave him the zing that Sara Sidle managed to give him, and all without even trying.

He thought about taking Sara to dinner. He thought about doing a lot of things with Sara, but he wanted to give it time. He didn't want her to think he brought her here to engage in an office romance. Although, if he really searched his psyche, he would see that perhaps that was exactly why he brought her to Vegas. But he'd never admit that to anybody, not even himself.

He really got to experience her full range of emotions when they took on the case one Kaye Shelton, who was found dead, wrapped in a blanket and covered in bugs. An investigation revealed that her husband had beaten her, and a lot. This rattled Sara to begin with. But when they went to his house and luminol revealed a horrifying blood stain on the wall, this really made her angry.

Grissom knew there would be problems when the husband, Scott Shelton, had told Grissom during an interrogation that "he had his hands full with her," referring to Sara. He could see the flashing anger in Sara's eyes, and he knew it wasn't because Scott had insulted her. It was because Kaye had to deal with that kind of behavior every day of their marriage.

But he didn't know how upset she really was when she approached him in his office during the case.

"You know how you say we're the victim's last voice?" Sara asked him, her voice wavering.

"Mm-hmm," he said, not sure he was going to like where this conversation was going.

"I thought it was our job to speak for Kaye Shelton."

"You don't crunch evidence to fit a theory."

"What if you hear the victim's screams? In the car, at the store."

Grissom sighed. He wasn't sure if there was anything he could say that would make her feel better.

"You have empathy for her, Sara. You want someone to pay for what was done to her. That's normal."

Sara was quiet, in deep thought. Then she said, "You want to sleep with me?"

Grissom froze. He took off his glasses, something he did when he had no idea how to answer a question.

"Did you just say what I think you said?"

"That way, when I wake up in a cold sweat under the blanket, hearing Kaye's screams...you can tell me it's nothing. It's just empathy."

When she walked out, he just knew he couldn't think about taking their relationship further. Not now, anyway. She was fragile. She needed more experience. She needed to toughen up. And until then, he wasn't going to take advantage of her emotions. If he ever hurt her, he didn't know how he could live with himself.

His feelings were confirmed when he had a tearful Sara in his office just a few weeks later. She was upset over a victim of rape that was now comatose and would probably never live a normal life again. The boy who raped her was under 18 and being sent to juvie, and since the victim was comatose and not dead, he would be out of jail in 48 months.

He told her it was the system. He told her, "You got to learn to let this go or you're going to spend all your time in hospitals trying to help the people you couldn't save." He meant to help her with these words, and instead it seemed like this upset her more.

As tears rolled down her face, she said something he would never forget.

"I wish I was like you, Grissom. I wish I didn't feel anything."

Before he could tell her how wrong she was, she left.

Later, as he sat in his townhouse alone, downing a bottle of Jack Daniels, he thought about how bad those words stung. Before Sara came to Vegas, he thought he was invincible. He thought he could control his emotions in any kind of situation. But as Sara Sidle continued to invade his soul, he thought about how wrong he had been.


	6. Road Trip

_2007_

It didn't take Sara and Robbie long to pack their mother's things for the trip back home to San Francisco. After 20 years in prison and 5 years of trying to find her place in the world, Laura didn't have many things to call her own. They packed up her small apartment, dividing up the tasks and getting it done quickly. Whenever they stumbled upon an old photo album or memento, Sara would say, "box it up, we'll look at it when we get to San Francisco." It would be a while until she was ready to dive into those old memories, especially after she spent so much time trying to forget them.

She was nervous about taking her mother home. She asked Laura's doctor, a very competent woman named Dr. Williams, if it would be okay to take her across the country in a car, since Laura desperately wanted to go home.

"That's fine, for now. But when you get to San Francsico, you need to take her to see Dr. Hawthorne right away. She's the best brain tumor doctor in California, and your mother needs to get started on chemotherapy and radiation, since the surgery didn't work like we'd hope."

"What can you tell me about how long she has to live?" Sara asked, pen in hand, ready to take notes. She'd already been down to the hospital's computer lab to do research on her mother's condition, but she wanted to hear what Dr. Williams had to say about it.

"Honestly, it's not looking good. I don't know how your mother didn't notice the symptoms a long time ago. She's in the advanced stages of glioblastoma multiforma, and since she is advancing in years, I'd say there's probably less than 3 months left. If she noticed it earlier, we would be in better shape. But, well, you know how it is."

Sara knew how it was. Her mother was in her sixties, and the chances of a recovery were slim.

"Thanks, doctor. We'll get her taken care of, as much as we can, anyway."

Sara then turned her attention to Robbie, who had just come back after going in search of a fresh cup of coffee. He offered a cup to Sara, who was grateful for the caffeine boost.

"Mm, thanks. Hey, I have to ask...how long can you stay with us? Because, Robbie, I have to tell you, I don't think I can do this alone." She knew for a fact she couldn't do it alone. The thought itself completely terrified her. She knew it was kind of silly; it was, after all, her mother. But she had spent so many years of her life thinking she'd never see her mother again that the thought of being with her alone was overwhelming.

"I called my company earlier and they have a branch in San Francisco, actually. So, it's looking like a transfer situation," he said. "I mean...they know it's temporary."

She didn't acknowledge she knew what he meant, but they both understood that he'd live in San Francisco until Laura died.

"And...you're okay with that?" Sara asked hesitantly.

"She's dying, Sara. I know you haven't made peace with her yet, but I have. She needs me as her son. You need me as your brother. This time, finally, I'm going to be here for the people who need me," he said.

"Well, that's quite a speech," she said, pinching him playfully. "Did they teach you that at philosophy school or something?"

He laughed. It was good to see her brother laugh.

"It just makes me feel better to right my wrongs. And, Sara...mom can't go back and change what happened. But we were young and it was a long time ago. Just try to give her some slack, okay?"

"I'll try, Rob. I will. I know it's time."

And it was time, and that's why she was here. She wasn't trying to get away from Las Vegas or the stupid politics of the LVMPD. She wasn't trying to get away from the man she loved. Her mother needed her, and she was going to be there for her.

OOOOOOOOOO

It was Laura who wanted to take the road trip. Robbie told her he'd fly with her to California and Sara could rent a truck and drive there with her stuff, but Laura said, "We never got the opportunity to take a trip together when you two were growing up. Let me at least have that experience once."

Robbie and Sara had looked at each other and shrugged. Sara hoped Laura wasn't going to pull the "let me have that experience once" card every time one of her children tried to persuade her out of doing something she wanted to do.

So, they rented a Ford Explorer, put what was left of Laura's things in the back, and ventured on this strange journey. They had nearly 3,000 miles to travel, and all three of them were anxious to leave.

Sara was going to be the first to drive. They figured one of them would drive and the other would sit in the back with Laura, until they needed gas and then they'd switch positions.

Sara was not looking forward to this drive, not in the slightest. She was usually always up for a good road trip, but being stuck in a car with the one person she'd been trying to avoid all these years was not something she was going to be excited about doing. But as soon as she got into the car, her cell phone vibrated.

 _I love you._ It was a text message from Grissom, and it was all she needed to put a smile on her face. It was still always the little things that made her the happiest.

When she told him about going back to San Francisco, his first reaction had been to say, "Good, then you're closer to Vegas." When she said that wasn't really the point, he said, "No, it's not, but in my little land of selfishness, that's what's important." They hadn't talked much in the few days she had been in Florida, but not because they didn't want to. He was following a lead on the miniature serial killer and she had her family issues to deal with, and it was fine. They didn't need to talk constantly to know how they felt about each other.

The first couple of hundred miles were quiet. Laura had taken her pills before they put her in the car and fell asleep on Robbie's shoulder. He was reading a book and staring out the window. Sara had the radio tuned to some kind of news station, although she wasn't really paying attention. She was thinking of all the things she wanted to ask her mother about, and how she would ever manage to find the courage to ask the questions in the first place. She was intimidated by Laura Sidle, and that was an uncomfortable feeling.

Eventually Laura woke up. And oh, how she wanted to talk.

Laura interrupted a heated conversation Sara and Robbie were having about the state of democracy in America with, "Will you guys just shut up already? You always get to talk to each other! Talk to me!" She said it jokingly, but her tone suggested otherwise.

"What's on your mind, mother?" Sara asked.

"I already know all about what Robbie does for a living, some kind of computer crap. Tell me about what you do, Sara." Robbie rolled his eyes.

"Well, I'm a crime scene investigator. I use science to find evidence to solve crimes. We essentially help the dead tell their story," she said. It was something she had thought a lot about over the past couple of years; how importantly she took that role of the voice of the victim. Sometimes, it's the only thing that kept her going,

Laura said, "Well, that's something I can certainly see you doing. Why did you pick that particular profession?"

Sara grimaced. That was so much like Laura to ask a seemingly harmless question when the answer wasn't harmless at all. Sara picked her profession because she had seen a horrific crime firsthand. She picked it because her father never got a chance to say good-bye. She picked it because if she didn't pick it, she didn't know if her life would have meaning. She picked it because science was who she was, and if it could help solve hideous crimes, then all the better.

So Sara decided to go for the easier answer.

"When I was in grad school at Berkeley, I took a seminar about forensics and it fascinated me, so I stayed in touch with the teacher of the seminar and he led me down the path where I am today."

She could tell what Laura wanted to ask next, but apparently she filed it away to ask later.

"Is it okay if I tell you I think that's bullshit?" Laura asked. Robbie rolled his eyes again, a habit Sara was learning to passionately hate.

"Well, why don't you tell me why I picked it, then," Sara said.

"Oh, come on, you guys, we're stuck in this car-"

Laura interrupted Robbie. "I think you picked it because you wanted to understand your mother better, that's what I think. I think you picked it so you could have a lifetime of putting people away, so it could remind you of where I was, and then you could continue your faith in the justice system like a good little American."

It was about time. They were finally talking about the pink elephant in the middle of the room. They all wondered how long the topic could be avoided, and now they all had their answer.

"That's nice, mom. I'm glad you think so highly of me."

Sara clutched the steering wheel, staring at the open road in front her, wishing the atmosphere would envelope her and save her from this conversation.

"It's okay, I understand. If I had such a criminal for a mother, I might have done the same thing," Laura said, staring out her window.

All three of them sighed, not sure where to go next with this particular conversation.

"Mother, it's not that we don't understand why you did it. Obviously the...abuse...made you snap. I don't blame you for that, really. But there were other ways to solve the problem." Sara said.

"Don't you think I know that, Sara? Don't you think I've spent the last 25 years thinking about what I could have done differently-" She suddenly became overwhelmed by a coughing fit.

"Robbie, give her a dexamethasone. I don't think she's had one yet today."

Robbie searched through the bag of pills Dr. Williams gave them and found the dexamethasone. He put the pill in his mother's mouth and poured some bottled water in to help the pill go down.

Eventually, Laura stopped coughing. She was quiet for a few minutes, watching the scenery on the highway.

Sara decided to ask the million dollar question.

"Why didn't you get help sooner, mother? I'm sure you had symptoms before a month ago."

Laura chuckled. It was not a pleasant chuckle.

"Because I'm being punished, Sara. It's karma. I deserve it, so when the symptoms appeared, I embraced them. I only went to the hospital because Robbie made me."

"Oh, please, mother, that's ridiculous. You served your time in jail, you paid your debt to society."

"Yes, I did, but it's not punishment for what I did to your father. It's punishment for what I did to you and Robbie. It's punishment for the years of foster care and the bullies and the mean foster parents and the terrible food and hygiene conditions you probably had to deal with. It's punishment for the years of therapy I'm sure both of you have had. It's punishment for screwing up your lives in order to make mine just a little bit better."

"That's not fair, mom," Robbie chimed in. "You didn't do it to make your life better, you did it because the abuse had gone too far and something inside of you went dark. You did it because you couldn't let the cycle go on any did it for us, mom...you did it for us."

They were all quiet again, this time for what seemed like hours. But there was something in the air, something different from frustration and regret. It was relief. Things that were left unsaid for way too many years to count were finally said, and now they could move on with their lives. It wouldn't be that simple, but it was a start. And that was all Sara needed.


	7. She likes Vegetation

_Vegas, year two_

He sent her a plant.

She talked to him about a leave of absence and he sent her a plant. She couldn't believe that there was a plant sitting in front of her, and that Grissom sent it. She knew it was from him because the card simply read "From Grissom."

From her comfortable couch, she looked at the plant sitting in the window and sighed. Well, at least it was something. At least he was trying to reach out to her. In his own strange way, he was trying to get her to stay.

She wondered how things got so strange between them. When she came to Vegas, she thought they'd have the easy relationship they shared when he was in San Francisco. Sure, he'd be her boss, but they could still go out to eat occasionally and have interesting discussions like they used to. And maybe, just maybe, things would get interesting. She liked to think that she never thought about it, but she did. Sometimes she hated even going to sleep, because her subconscious would attack her with cruel dreams about the man.

Somewhere along the way, she learned that their relationship would not be so easy. Sure, he'd flirt with her when he didn't think anyone was looking, but when she flirted back, he always managed to shut her down. A year and a half in Vegas, and she was starting to understand how things were going to work with them. And it was one of the most frustrating realizations she'd ever had. When he told her to clean up the mess from his meat bullet experiment, things finally started to make sense to her. He was just Grissom. He was her boss. He was her mentor. And that was it. He wasn't her friend. He wasn't interested in a relationship with his young employee. He was interested in bugs and blood, and that's all that seemed to matter to him.

So she thought about a leave of absence. It might have been hasty, yes, she would agree with that. But if this man didn't know she was a vegetarian by now, and because of the experiment they did together on an unfortunate pig to prove Scott Shelton killed his wife, did he really even know, well, anything about her? She needed more respect. She needed to be in an environment where she wasn't always trying to impress the boss. She needed to go somewhere that didn't have a history. And that's what the leave of absence was about.

It hurt when he laughed at her. It hurt the most, though, when he said, "Sara, the lab needs you." He didn't say he needed her, because he didn't. No matter how many times she tried to change his mind, he just didn't need her.

She would stay, but not because of the plant or because of Grissom. It was because of Nick and his casual flirtations that had turned into a wonderful and rare friendship. It was because of Warrick, who was turning his life around, leaving gambling behind for good. It was because of Catherine and her common sense and knowledge of human interactions that helped to solve cases. It was because of Greg and his cute little crush on her. And it was because of Hank.

She wasn't convinced about Hank yet. Their first meeting was over a dead body. When he came to ask her out, she smelled like the liquefied body she was processing; which is to say, not pleasant. Their first date was interrupted by Catherine bringing her a severed finger in a cup full of ice. Hell, the only reason why she called him in the first place was because of the case she was on involving a woman who never left her house. She was so desperate for companionship; she reached out to a prisoner. Sara didn't want to end up like that, so she went home, threw away all her take-out menus and leftovers from the fridge, and she called him. Their mating ritual had not been normal so far, but that was okay. She hadn't dated in a long time and Hank was fun to hang out with. They both saw pain and death almost on a daily basis. They had a basic understanding of the kind of lifestyle they shared, and that could make a relationship go a long way.

Or so she tried to tell herself. In the back of her mind, she knew she was kind of using Hank. She liked him, she really did. But he didn't have the intelligence Grissom had, or the crystal blue eyes Grissom had, or the calm confidence Grissom had in his work, or the faith he had in his employees, or the look in his eye when he looked at Sara. She knew Hank liked her just fine. But there wasn't a history in his eyes. There wasn't a longing in his eyes. And there was in Grissom's, and that's why she never could quite give up on him. His eyes told the story that his mouth couldn't, and every time she looked in his eyes it was like breaking her heart all over again.

She thought of "the incident", as she had come to call it, a few weeks ago. They were at a scene, of course, and everyone knew there was a dead body in the walls of the shady landlord's apartment. But none of them could find it. Sara, Warrick and Grissom tore the place apart and still couldn't find the elusive body. The landlord denied it all, of course, they always did. But Grissom had not been a crime scene investigator for nearly 20 years without knowing when there was a dead body in an enclosed space.

In the middle of it all, he wandered outside. Sara was curious where he went, so she followed him. He was pacing outside, his fingers on his pulse.

He looked mad. She asked if he was okay and he said, "Normally my pulse is at 70. When it gets to 95, I realize how mad I am!"

That was so Grissom, knowing he was mad by how high his pulse was.

"I have 10 people working around the clock on this thing!" He said, while she tried hard not to notice how damn sexy he was when he got angry.

"You're too hard on yourself," she said.

"No, no, I'm not mad at me! There's a body in there, and that guy knows where it is!"

Sara admired his passion for the job. The situation WAS frustrating, but her pulse wasn't racing. She wondered if the anger came with experience.

"Want to take a walk around the block, get some air?" She asked hopefully.

"No."

"Clear your head."

"I'm fine," he said.

"Okay."

She didn't plan to do what she did next. She could have just told him, "You know, you have chalk on your face." Instead, she took her hand and slightly rubbed his face where the chalk was. His skin was hot, and she could almost feel it getting hotter by the second with her touch.

Seeing the look of surprise and confusion on his face, she quickly said, "Chalk. From plaster."

"Oh," was all he managed to say.

"Better go wash up," she said. And then she walked away, not quite sure how to feel. Obviously if he didn't know how she felt before, he did now. That was not an innocent touch. After their break outside, they came back in and eventually found the mysterious dead body and all was right in the world again. But the touch happened. It was out in the universe now, and she wasn't sure if that was good or not.

A few weeks later, she was threatening a leave of absence which confused him even more than her touching his face did.

Judy, the receptionist, gave her the plant when she came in the day after.

"This came for you," Judy said cheerfully. "Isn't it pretty?"

"Yeah, um, I guess so," she said slowly. She looked at the card, dying to know who sent it to her.

 _From Grissom_ , the card read. She took the plant home that night and watered it. It was a nice plant, and she did like vegetation. Maybe he knew her better than she thought. Maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.

0000000000000

A few days after the plant incident, Grissom found himself with Sara at a hockey rink. They were investigating the murder of a hockey player, and they sat in the stands while they talked over the case.

He was glad she reconsidered her leave of absence. It would have been a major mistake for her professionally because they really did have the best lab in the country, she wouldn't find anything better. But more than that, he was used to her being around. She was there when he needed her, and to lose that would hurt the team. He wouldn't, couldn't admit to himself that it would hurt him.

It was Catherine's suggestion to get something for Sara to make her feel appreciated. Grissom was going to send flowers, but he didn't think Sara was a flowers kind of girl. He knew she'd appreciate vegetation, and he appeared to be right because she was back.

He was fascinated by how emotional she was about, well, everything. He hated how upset she look when they talked about her leave of absence. She felt he didn't respect her, and that struck him hard. He remembered how he didn't take advantage of her feelings for him in San Francisco because he didn't want to hurt her, and now he was hurting her without even knowing it. It was frustrating. It was more than frustrating; for some reason, he found it fascinating. She was beginning to become an enigma to him, and he never could resist an enigma.

Back at the hockey rink, he turned to his attention to the case at hand.

The dead guy, one Terry Rivers, died during a game. Grissom read off the penalties he received during the game.

"Two minutes for elbowing. Four minutes for high sticking. Ten minutes for unsportsmanlike conduct."

"Boys will be boys," Sara said.

He couldn't help but notice how adorable she looked in her black cap.

"Sounds like these boys went to a fight and a hockey game broke out."

"You just don't like sports."

"That's not true, I've been a baseball fan my whole life."

He thought about how his father, before he died, would take him to countless games. Like many sons and fathers, it was a traditional way of bonding that made both of them happy. There was nothing like the crack of a bat to make a grown man jump for joy.

"Baseball. Well, that figures," Sara said. "All those stats."

"It's a beautiful game."

"Since when are you interested in beauty?"

It was a simple question and it deserved a simple answer, but he didn't have one. So he just said the first thing that came to his mind.

"Since I met you," he said.

He thought the look of confusion on her face was endearing. Maybe she forgot that's what she told him at their first lunch together when he asked her how long she'd been interested in law enforcement. Or maybe she didn't forget and she was still confused.

It was true, though. Ever since she came into his life he _was_ noticing the beauty in things. Especially her. And it was so damn frustrating because she still had so much to learn. Besides, what could a man like him offer her anyway? He was nearing his fifties, married to his career. There was a few relationships in his past, but for the most part he knew he didn't have much to offer a girl her age. Sara was barely 30, what could he do for her that some guy in his twenties could give her tenfold?

All these thoughts and every other thought escaped his brain the day she wiped the chalk from his face. The way she did it without even thinking about it really blindsided him. The way her hand felt on his face actually kept him up at night sometimes. Before that, he only had a hunch that her feelings for him were more than just platonic. Knowing she was interested made it that much harder.

But he kept his vow not to take advantage of her. Just a few weeks ago she stormed out of the lab when they couldn't prove the guilt of two women that were in on a murder of one of their husbands. Grissom had to follow her and explain to her that the system doesn't always work. And if she got mad about it, they would win. He could tell she couldn't, and didn't seem to want to, understand. He was comforted by the fact that there is no statute of limitations for murder. She was not.

Lately, when he thought too much about Sara, he would put her in the back of his mind and think about the woman he met recently, Lady Heather. She was a dominatrix, but more than that, she was a very intelligent woman. She intrigued Grissom, and he didn't have any objection to fantasizing about what she could do with a whip. It was much easier than fantasizing about anything he could do with Sara.

After they solved the hockey player mess, Grissom went home and poured himself a drink. He brought home a few folders to look at; cold cases that he still wanted to solve. If there was one thing that was true about Gil Grissom, it was that he'd rather envelope himself in his work and his bugs than concern himself with leather-wearing dominatrixes and emotional employees. It was just easier that way.

He remembered something Catherine said a long time ago when he told her that bit of information. She looked at him funny and said, _but, Gil, does your work keep you warm in bed at the end of the day?_

He never did have a good answer for that.


	8. A Smart Girl

**A/N - I obviously took some liberties with the second part of this chapter, as you will see. But it didn't really work for my story to have Sara under a Mustang, so we have this instead. I think it's a little more pleasant, don't you? Anyway, thank you all for the reviews, and as always, thanks to GSFanatic for the beta and the voice of reason.**

When Sara Sidle was 11 years old, she and her brother watched as her mother stabbed her father to death. Robbie and Sara had just gotten home from school, right on time to witness yet another fight between their parents. They were used to it by then and learned to tune certain things out, but there was something different about this fight. Laura Sidle was fighting back this time.

Their father, Jacob, was yelling at his wife about something ridiculous. Laura didn't vacuum that day or she didn't wash his favorite shirt or didn't make the right thing for dinner, it was always something like that.

Robbie was 14 and not content to watch his father abuse his mother anymore. Whenever he could, he tried to get in the middle as a horrified Sara watched. So, Jacob had taken to beating Robbie instead of Laura most of the time now, and Robbie was just fine with that. He'd tell Sara, "One day I'm going to be bigger than him and he won't be able to lay a hand on me or Mom anymore." Sara herself was never on the receiving end of the abuse. No, Jacob liked to assault her verbally.

"Look at you, so skinny and smart and wonderful," Jacob slurred when Sara brought home another report card with all As, or a science project that won a red ribbon. "You think you're going to make it out of this town? I didn't. Your mother didn't. Don't go thinking you're special, missy. You're not. You're just lucky."

The day her mother stabbed her father, Laura had a look in her eye Sara had never seen before. It was, by all definitions, a look of madness. But it was also a look of content. It was a look that seemed to say, "You can yell at me all you want, because I have plans for you." Sure enough, when Jacob started the abuse with his signature move - grabbing her by the hair and moving his hand as if to slap her - Robbie stepped in and yelled, "Hit me! Hit me instead!" And before Jacob could, Laura stepped aside, calmly grabbed a butcher knife from the kitchen counter and stabbed Jacob Sidle. 5 times, in fact.

When Laura went on trial, there were no mentions of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or what would later be known as Battered Woman Syndrome. The prosecuting attorney was a pit bull and somehow managed to dig up evidence that Laura herself bought a set of butcher knives 4 days before the stabbing incident occurred. The defense attorney the state provided for Laura was fresh out of law school and a raging alcoholic. Since the prosecutor managed to show that the attack was premeditated, and because her defense attorney was basically useless, and because the jury was stunned when they found out Laura did this in front of Sara and Robbie, Laura received 20 years in prison. Attempts at parole were all denied. It seemed no one would listen to Laura Sidle, not even her own children.

Sara and Robbie were shipped off to foster care. Both of them wanted to talk to their mother, but they were always encouraged not to by those who seemed to know why. When Robbie was 18, he went to see Laura in prison. He called Sara later and said, "When you're old enough, do not go see Mom. She's bitter, and she'll try to break you."

Sara knew Laura was bitter because she sometimes received letters from the prison. Her mother seemed to have adopted a "look how the system screwed me" attitude and that was all she could talk about. She was mad at the system for screwing her, she was mad at her cellmate for not sharing cigarettes, she was mad at the warden for not letting her outside more, and she was mad at Sara because she never visited. Sara made the decision when she was 15 years old to cut off contact with her mother for good. At the time, it was a decision she felt good about. Later on in her life, when she had her first kiss with a boy when she was 16 years old, when she graduated from high school and was accepted to Harvard, when she received her degree and moved on to graduate school at Berkeley, when she walked out on a man that slapped her in the middle of their first fight, those were the times she wanted to talk to her mother. And those were the times her mother was in a jail cell, bitter and angry at a world that had forgotten her.

00000000000

 _2007_

When they made it to San Francisco after a long, stressful road trip, Sara, Laura and Robbie moved in with one of Laura's old friends, Barbara. Barbara was the only one that kept in touch with Laura when she went to jail. She lived in a big, comfortable house that echoed with the voices of all her kids that had long since grown up and moved far away.

They all had separate rooms, 3 in a row with Laura in the middle. Sara's room was Barbara's only son's room - it wasn't changed at all since he moved out 15 years ago. There were heavy metal posters on the wall and the slightest scent of what was probably once marijuana. Sara liked the room and claimed it as her own.

While she was unpacking her things, her cell phone rang. She smiled when she saw it was Grissom.

"Hey," she said, cradling the phone to her ear while she unpacked.

"Sara..." Grissom murmured.

"What's wrong?" She said immediately.

"We caught the miniature killer."

"Oh, wow! Who was it? Was it one of Ernie Dell's foster kids?"

"Yes, her name was Natalie."

"A female serial killer? I never even thought about that being a possibility. What made her crack like that? What happened-"

"Sara, listen to me. The cops busted in the door to her apartment, but she made it down the fire escape. Nick and Warrick found her when she collapsed on Fremont Street. But Sofia stayed behind to check out the apartment, and what they found what could only be described as horrifying. Natalie had pictures of...of you. She even made a miniature of you trapped under a car. We figured out that this was what she was planning to do to you if you didn't leave town. The miniature's hand, it was moving. It wouldn't stop moving, like it was desperately trying to claw its way to freedom."

Sara stopped unpacking and sat on the bed. She knew Grissom was a little shaken up by this, but she didn't know what to say.

"Oh, Griss...why was she targeting me?"

"Because she saw us at a crime scene together once. She saw me stroke your arm, and it was not a friendly touch. She was going to take you away from me, Sara, because I took Ernie Dell away from her."

Sara vibrantly remembered that crime scene. They were called in on their day off, which interrupted them in the middle of a steamy afternoon. Grissom couldn't seem to take his mind off the day's previous activities while they were processing, which made for an interesting round of what they thought had been well-hidden fondling.

"Oh, my god...Griss, it's okay. I'm fine. They put her away, right? I'm not in any danger, am I?"

"No, no, you're fine, thank God. She's definitely locked away for good. But there's more. Sara, there's more."

"What is it, Griss? Just tell me."

"I kind of let it slip to the team about...well, about us. I know we were going to wait until you came home, but I think I might have been in a state of shock when I told everybody you were the only person I ever loved, and that's why Natalie was coming after you, to get revenge on me."

She tried not to drool all over herself with happiness from that bit of information. They'd talk about it later. Right now, she had to calm her man down.

"I leave you alone for a couple of days and you tell everybody our secret?" She said, trying to keep it light.

"It's not funny. Right now only Warrick, Greg, Catherine and Nick know but who knows how many people will know now? None of them have confronted me about it, but I think it's only a matter of time. Damn it, I wanted you to be here with me when that happened!"

"Griss, it's okay. I'm still here. And do you really think the team would tell anyone about us? Most of them probably had their suspicions, anyway. And besides, they're our friends. Who would they tell?"

Grissom was quiet. He was quiet for so long it made Sara uncomfortable.

"Can you come back here?" He finally asked softly.

"Griss, you know I can't. My mother needs me."

"She has Robbie," he said pitifully. "I miss you. I need you here."

"Don't ask that of me, please don't ask that of me. I have things I need to do here before I come back, you know that."

Grissom was quiet again.

Sara tried again.

"Why can't you come here? You know Catherine is perfectly capable of running graveyard."

"I can't. You know I can't, I have responsibilities."

"Well..." Sara said, not knowing what else to say.

"I know, I know. We can't be together right now. I realize that. I just miss you."

"I know, I miss you, too. But, Griss, it'll be okay. We both have things to do, and when I come back, we don't have to be afraid anymore. We can be the people we've always wanted to be."

"I can't wait, Sara."

They talked for a few more minutes. Sara heard Laura calling her, so they exchanged "I love yous" and hung up.

Sara came into Laura's room.

"Yes, Mother?"

She couldn't help but notice how frail her mother looked. She was sitting in bed under the covers, looking pale and sad. Sometimes, occasionally, she'd smile when Robbie and Sara were in the same room. Sara found that she liked seeing her mother smile.

"I thought I heard you on the phone. Is everything all right?"

"Oh, yeah," Sara said. "I was just talking to my boss in Las Vegas. He wanted to know if everything was okay.

Sara was not ready to tell her mother about her real relationship with her "boss." She knew Laura would ask about him eventually, but she was right when she figured that time wasn't now.

"Oh, that was nice of him. What a nice man. Anyway, I called you in here because I wanted to ask a question. May I?"

"Of course."

"Why didn't you visit me in prison? I needed you, Sara. I needed my daughter to care about how I was doing. Why weren't you there?"

Sara sighed. She was getting used to this interrogation kick her mother seemed to be on. She understood why; Laura had questions she needed the answers to. But she had no tact. It was almost like she asked Sara questions when she knew her defenses were down.

"Robbie told me you were bitter, and the letters you sent me were filled with anger and hatred. I lived with the anger and hatred my whole life and I didn't want to be around that stuff anymore. The foster homes had enough negativity in them, and I didn't need yours to add to it."

This seemed to silence Laura, at least long enough for Sara to talk without being asked another question.

"But, Mother, you had to know I was thinking about you. You were, and are, constantly in my thoughts. But I've worked very hard to get where I am today, and I couldn't live in your shadow forever."

Laura closed her eyes and Sara wondered if she was asleep. Just as she was going to leave the room, Laura said, "I'm proud of you, Sara. You lived the life I didn't have the courage to live. You did what I couldn't, and I respect you for that."

Sara was smart enough to know Laura wasn't exactly giving her a compliment. She was bitter that Sara got to experience what she couldn't. She was proud of her daughter, but she was also bitter at society for not letting her accomplish her goals.

"Mother, you met Dad when you were 16 years old. He treated you right and you believed it was all going to work out. You had us and he got jealous of the attention you paid to us, and something snapped in him. It wasn't your fault, it was never your fault. The only thing you did wrong was fall in love with the wrong person."

Sara couldn't help but think of Grissom. For a long time, she thought she was in love with the wrong person. And the worst part about it was, she thought if he asked her to give everything up for him, she just might have done it. She always thought he knew that about her, and that's why he never tried to pursue anything with her until recently.

Laura smiled at Sara's words.

"You are a smart girl, Sara. I'm glad I did at least one thing right in my life."

"What am I, chopped liver?" Robbie said, peeking in the doorway. Sara chuckled.

"The two things I did right in my life, pardon me," Laura said, a hint of a smile forming on her tired face.

The three of them went over their plans for the next couple of days, which included taking Laura to the neurologist and hiring a live-in nurse to take care of her at home. Sara thought, not for the first time either, about how right this seemed to feel. Not that her mother being on the verge of death was right, but being together with her mother and brother felt nice. She finally understood why people talked so glowingly about their families, because now she was a part of one again, and it felt right. The part of her that had always been missing was almost whole again. She tried not to think about the part that it was only temporary, and soon her mother would be taken away from her again.


	9. This

**Okay, y'all, I really agonized over this particular chapter. It's really, really long, but trust me, if you liked the chapters before this, you'll really like this one.**

 _Vegas, year 3_

Sara found herself starting her third year in Vegas with a boyfriend. She hated that term, "boyfriend," but it seemed like that was what Hank Peddigrew was turning out to be. Hank was an okay guy. He treated her just fine, they had interesting conversations, and he was a decent kisser. He was from the area and took her to places she'd never been to around Vegas, like amusement parks and wineries and hole in the wall restaurants. They didn't spend a whole lot of time together because of their different schedules, but when they did, it was nice.

Still, when she found herself without his company, she was just as happy as when she was spending time with him. She did wonder if that was how it was supposed to be. Wasn't she supposed to look forward to spending time with her boyfriend? To think about the relationship progressing past casually dating made her nervous. They'd been together about for almost 6 months and hadn't even spent the night together yet.

For some reason she couldn't quite figure out, she didn't want Grissom to know about Hank. That wasn't quite working out for her. Warrick told her that he and Grissom were just at a crime scene where Hank told him to "say hi to Sara" for him. Sara could only imagine what Grissom felt about that. He probably thought how unprofessional it was to date someone she worked with on a regular basis. Sara could only laugh at the irony.

However, Grissom might have had a point there. Sara was processing the scene of a double murder involving a popular movie actor named Tom Haviland. Sara was taking pictures of the bed when Hank made his way to the room.

"I need to talk to you," Hank told her.

Sara tried hard to not sound annoyed when she said, "Uh, can it wait until after work?"

"It's about work," Hank said nervously. "When I tried to revive the victim the bra was in the way, so I repositioned it. I didn't think about it until I was at the elevator."

Sara asked him where it was exactly. He pointed and she moved the bra to the right location, snapping a few pictures.

"Thanks," Hank said, looking at her gratefully.

"Thanks? Thanks nothing. I'm going to have to put it in my report. 'Evidence moved due to life-saving efforts' with before and after pictures."

"Sorry," Hank said, looking just a little bit pitiful.

Sara smiled as Hank left as quickly as he entered. After work, they'd laugh about how ridiculous the procedures of their job could be, but for now, she had to take it seriously.

As the case opened up, it received nationwide media attention. Tom hired the best lawyers money could buy, and to show how dirty his team could play, they brought in Phillip Gerard. Not only was Phillip a top forensic scientist, he was also Gil Grissom's mentor. Sara could tell Grissom had very conflicting feelings about this.

At one point during the investigation, she and Gil were analyzing a sheet with a waffle-shaped bloody imprint on it. They were talking about the particulars of the case when they heard the shutter of a camera click behind them. They both turned around to see Philip taking pictures of the evidence.

"Sorry, Gil, just doing my job," he said, a fake smile plastered on his face.

Grissom introduced Sara to Philip and they talked about the case and how Sara handled the evidence for a bit. Then Philip made Sara want to crawl under a rock and stay there for maybe a year or two with his next piece of conversation.

"DA just provided me with copies of pictures of the victim's bra," he said, handing the folder with the picture in it to Grissom.

"Well, we already know the bra was moved," Grissom said. "Sara filed a supplemental report to that effect."

"I know. I wish she'd mentioned her relationship with the EMT who moved the bra," Philip said.

Sara fought back the urge to vomit all over herself. This was not happening.

"Relationship?" Grissom asked, in the tone someone else might have said, "Decapitation?"

"A Hank Peddigrew."

Grissom turned and looked at Sara with a very interesting look in his eyes. Sara couldn't handle it. She turned to look at Phillip.

"We just interviewed him. He says he thanked her for letting him move the bra back," Philip said snottily.

The damage had already been done, but Sara quickly said anyway, "He was just, uh, being polite and, um, it's not a relationship. We go to movies-"

Grissom interrupted her. "Doc? Why don't you and I go to my office? We can talk there."

Before Grissom left the room, he turned and gave Sara a look that nearly broke her. If she'd have known any better, she would have even thought that he actually cared.

When she was alone in the room, she thought, _how dare he look at me like that. How dare he give me any kind of indication that he gives a shit about Hank Peddigrew. How dare he give me one single sliver of hope that he was hurt by my feelings for someone else._ It made her so angry she wanted to kick something, or somebody.

 _Where did we go wrong?_ She thought sadly.

But it wasn't over. Marjorie Westcott, Tom's infamous lawyer who earned the nickname "Soundbite" Westcott, put all the CSIs on the stand to try to prove their incompetence. She did a good job with Nick and Warrick, first by catching Nick on not properly documenting evidence and then by attacking Warrick with his former gambling addiction.

Before it was Sara's turn, she went to Grissom's office. After a conversation about the case, Sara suddenly noticed Grissom looking her over. She felt a little strange being all dressed up for this court appearance, but she did think she looked decent.

"You look nice," he said.

She was too tired and too frustrated by his actions to get herself too excited about an actual compliment coming from the mouth of Gil Grissom.

"Thanks." She said, not bothering to smile.

After a few seconds, she said, "Wish me luck."

She turned to leave when she heard Grissom say, "Sara?"

She turned around to face him.

"Whatever happens in court, it's not because you're seeing this guy." He stopped to think for a moment. "You deserve to have a life."

Sara left before she could say what she was thinking... _why don't I deserve to have a life with you?"_

In court, Marjorie "Soundbite" Westcott did her best to bring Sara down. She brought up Sara's relationship with Hank, She said Sara got emotionally involved with men on her cases, and Hank wasn't the first one. She mentioned Sara rubbing Grissom's cheek from that case almost a year ago. Sara couldn't believe anyone saw her do that and she tried her best not to look completely humiliated. She let her guard down once, one damn time, and she gets asked about it in court a year later. What other kind of pain could these strange feelings she had for Grissom cause?

Before Sara was dismissed, Marjorie had one more thing to say.

"Just how far will Ms. Sidle go on the evidence to please her boss, Gil Grissom, whether he returns her attentions or not?"

 _Excellent question,_ Sara thought.

Just a few days later, Sara was enjoying her day off with Hank. He took her to a vineyard in Pahrump. She tried to put Gil Grissom far out of her mind and tried to have a fun day with her, well, boyfriend. They drank wine and laughed and held hands while taking a tour of the winery. _I could get used to this_ , she thought.

Unfortunately, their lovely day was short lived. Grissom paged Sara to come help with a crime scene. In an attempt to forget about work and enjoy her day off, she left her pager in the car, so she didn't notice his page until 30 minutes after he sent it.

"Oh, shit!" Sara nearly yelled.

"What is it?" Hank said, looking down at her pager.

"It's Grissom. We gotta go, Hank, I'm sorry."

"Don't worry, I know how it is," he said. Pahrump is a good hour and 15 minutes from Vegas, but Hank managed to get them there in just under 50 minutes. She got in her own car and raced to the crime scene, where she was confronted by a very grumpy Grissom, who told her he paged her 2 hours ago. She didn't say, "actually, it was about an hour and a half, but whatever."

She told him she was in Pahrump. She also added that he told her to get a life, and she was only trying to do what he said.

"Did I?" He said, and she couldn't help but notice how bitter he sounded.

He then sent her solo to a local high school that contained a dead cheerleader. On her way there, she thought about how very strange he was acting. She didn't want to think that it was only because she had a boyfriend. It couldn't be that simple, could it? She'd been nothing but available for the last 2 years, and now that she was going to movies with someone, he was bitter?

Later, when she was done with the case at the high school, which somehow involved students taking PCP and apparently trying to eat each other, she stopped by Grissom's office. He was, as usual, reading a case file. She loved how predictable he was. She loved how intense he was about his work. She loved how sexy he looked when he was reading a case file.

"Good night," she said.

Before she could make her quick planned escape, he said, "Nice work on the high school case."

Sara took a deep breath. She needed to say something, anything, to this man who somehow seemed to know how to press all her buttons even better than her own boyfriend.

"I'm, uh, I'm sorry I missed your page. It's just, you tell me to get a life, and I get one, and then you expect me to be there at a moment's notice. It's, um, confusing."

 _There,_ she thought. _Let him think about that one for a while._

For a few months, she and Grissom seemed to call a truce. They managed to work together side by side without getting to any embarrassing situations that she could later be called out on in court. Sometimes, when she got too close to him and again saw that look in his eyes that never seemed to fade, she wished things could be different. But there wasn't much she could do about it now.

Indeed, her relationship with Hank was getting more interesting as the months went by. She let some of her walls down and let him in. He seemed grateful for this and rewarded her with more affection and closeness that she had received in a long, long time. She even let herself think about maybe moving in with him someday. The thought of sharing her living space with someone in the past scared her to death, but she didn't think it would be so bad with Hank.

And then came the car accident.

It wasn't her car accident, or even his car accident. It was the case of a on older woman who drove her Jag into the window of a restaurant. A restaurant, as it turned out, where Hank had been eating at the time with a woman Sara later found out was his girlfriend Elaine. Sara found this out when she went to Elaine's house to ask her questions about a case. Her heart sank when she noticed a picture of Elaine with Hank. Elaine noticed Sara looking at the picture, and happily informed her that she was taking Hank to Tahiti because last year, he took her to Hawaii. It took a lot for Sara not to say _Oh, well, he didn't tell me that when we were in bed together last night. How interesting._

Later, she would tell Catherine over a pitcher of beer at a cheap bar, "I trusted him. I actually thought it might be okay this time."

Catherine had laughed and put her hand on Sara's.

"Honey, don't ever think that. You can let your guard down a little, but never think it's going to be okay. The minute you do, they can somehow sense it. And it all goes downhill from there."

Sara was the other woman. She had been a lot of things in her life, but "the other woman" was a first, and she didn't like it.

When Sara got back to the lab, she found Hank waiting for her in the hall. She knew she could say a lot of things in a lot of different ways to this man, and oh how she wanted to. She let him into her mind, and her heart, and even her bedroom, and ended up getting burned for the effort. So there were a few things that she could have said when she came face to face with the man that betrayed her.

"I heard you met Elaine," Hank said.

"Yeah. She's really something."

Hank didn't say anything, instead choosing to stare at the ground.

"I didn't tell her about us, if that's what you're wondering."

"I'm really sorry, Sara," he said.

 _Not sorry enough_ , she thought.

Instead she said, "See you around."

Catherine, who seemed to know what happened before Sara did, managed to convince her to grab a beer. It turned into many beers, and she found herself enjoying bonding with her only female co-worker. She and Catherine had not much been on speaking terms for the last couple of weeks, ever since Sara was unable bring justice to the murder of Catherine's ex-husband Eddie. It felt nice to talk to Catherine on a friendly basis again. Sara never had a lot of female friends, and she felt like she and Catherine had an understanding.

They talked about men and sex and everything else 2 drunken women could discuss. The words "Gil Grissom" never passed either of their lips, but he was all Sara could think about. She couldn't help but wonder, _what does this mean for us?_

Gil Grissom felt like an old man. His hair was turning gray, for one thing. He noticed more wrinkles popping up on a daily basis. His knees popped whenever he stood up. And all around him, his younger employees were solving cases and having fun and starting relationships, and this made him feel older than ever.

Not to mention his hearing problem. He was going to have to do something about that soon, but he just didn't want to face what was truly happening to him. He couldn't let himself think about going deaf like his mother. It would definitely make a huge impact on his career. He'd never be able to listen to opera again. And he'd never hear the deep tones of Sara's voice again.

Grissom had seen Sara's boyfriend a few times before. And he wondered what in God's name she saw in that guy. Sure, this "Hank" was pleasant enough, but did he really understand her? Did he treat her right? Did he wake her up in the morning with a deep, passionate kiss and tell her how much he loved her? Because, Gil thought, that was what she deserved. And that's what Gil couldn't give her.

He would never admit to anyone that he was the slightest bit jealous, but he knew Sara could tell. And he knew it frustrated her. It was crazy, this relationship they seemed to have. She could basically read him like a book while he tried everything possible not to let her. He wondered what would happen if he just gave in and see what happened, but it was futile at this point. She had a boyfriend. He would always be too late.

And then, a case brought him back to Lady Heather. He was almost relieved when he entered the Domain yet again. Sometimes he'd find himself thinking about this mysterious woman and how perhaps he'd like to get to know her better. She was attractive and intelligent and seemed to have a basic understanding of people and their motivations, and he couldn't help but find that fascinating.

Grissom and Brass were hot on the case of a Trey Buchman, found dead at a popular club that seemed to be more of a sex club than a dance club. Trey Buchman was a gigolo at the domain, which led them to Lady Heather. When they entered the familiar territory of the domain, they heard the usual screams of satisfied men, and the usual yelling of dominating females. Brass seemed impressed and intrigued by the situation, while Gil could barely hear the voice of someone who was talking to him directly, much less background noise.

Heather seemed to pick up on this right away. She took the men on sort of a tour of her domain, showing them her foray into the online world. She called it "voyeurism in a brave new world." Gil couldn't help but add, "What would Aldous Huxley think?"

She smiled and told him, "If his credit card were valid, he could say anything he wanted at $3.95 per minute. Do you like my lipstick?"

Gil didn't know what to say. He knew she was onto him already. This woman, basically a stranger to him, figured out in minutes what nobody else he worked closely with could even come close to guessing. It was slightly unnerving.

"Why?" He asked, feeling dumb.

"Because you've been staring at my lips."

"You have lovely lips," he said. And it wasn't a lie. She _did_ have lovely lips, all the evidence was present for it to be considered a fact.

Brass looked at this scene before him and apparently decided he needed to get Gil Grissom right the hell out of there, because before Grissom knew it, Brass was thanking Lady Heather for her time and hauling ass for the domain's doors.

Later, at the lab, Grissom heard about the unfortunate death of Catherine's ex-husband. He never liked Eddie. He hated what the man did to Catherine; he almost broke her, and Catherine wasn't the type to break easily. But he knew Catherine was upset, and her daughter would be missing a father. Having lost his own father at such a young age, he felt for the girl.

He tried his hardest to comfort Catherine, but he couldn't seem to find the right words, and he could tell she took no comfort in the words he did say. He watches while Catherine walks into the AV booth where Warrick and Nick are, and they do seem to have the right words to comfort their friend. Gil found himself wondering how it came so easily to others. He wondered if he'd ever know how to say the right thing. It was something he came to terms with early in his life, but it still got him in trouble in the most desperate of situations.

After following more leads in the case of Trey Buchman, Gil found himself back at Lady Heather's, this time by himself. Trey Buchman was hired by a Steven McCormick. Steven found that his girlfriend was not as experienced sexually as he would have liked, so he hired Trey to give her more experience, so to speak. When he found that his wife gained the experience he wanted, they were married. Grissom found himself in a heated discussion with Heather about the dominant-submissive relationship.

Grissom was intrigued by this meeting of the dominant and submissive mind. He learned from his conversations with Heather that in her world, the submissive was he one with the real power. All they had to do was say "stop," and the dominant partner had to stop. It was in the rules. Grissom liked the idea of a relationship based on rules. More than that, he was starting to like the idea of Heather. Because despite her reputation and the career she had chosen, Heather was safe. She understood him and he seemed to understand her as well. There was no mystery to this relationship. There was a rhyme and a reason and everything made sense. She was the complete opposite of Sara in his mind, and at that point in his life, that was all he wanted.

Heather told him he was a good listener when he told her what he learned about the world of the domain. He said it was all part of the job.

"This is work?" Heather asked, looking him in the eye and making things stir inside him that only one other woman had ever managed to stir before.

"Yes," he said. "But I value your insight."

Lady Heather smiled as she said, "I'm flattered. But you already seem to know the answers to your questions. You keep me in proximity when I walk away and when I'm close, you watch my lips. Are you losing your hearing?" She took a step towards him as she talked, and he resisted the urge to step back. He found that he didn't want to, which came as a surprise.

"I'm losing my balance," he said honestly.

"Your sense of self?"

"No. I know who I am."

"Do you?" She asked.

He nodded. "Yes, I do."

He reached out and moved an errant hair from her face. She closed her eyes and let him. He just wanted to touch her. More than that, he wanted to not want to touch her. He wanted to turn away, to find Sara and say all the things he'd been meaning to say. But Sara was far away, and she had somebody else to tell her those things now. He desired Heather, and so he gave into his desires. He was a man, she was a woman, and he couldn't think of any reason why this was wrong. So he put both hands on her face, looking at her deeply, allowing her presence into his universe.

"You can always say stop," Grissom said softly.

"So can you," she said.

He allowed her to lead him to her bedroom in the domain. As she closed the door and feasted her eyes upon him in the most primitive of ways, he let all thoughts of Sara slowly fade from his mind.

Well, that relationship ended as soon as it started. It turned out, women didn't really like it when you accused them of murder. Over tea the next morning, Heather revealed that she was a diabetic and used an injector. She asked Grissom if he wanted to see it, and he did. Mostly because an injector was used to kill Trey Buchman, and he now had a new lead in his case. He told her he would like to see it, but he would need a warrant. To prove his point, he took out his phone and called for a warrant to open Heather's medical aid kit. Heather did not look happy. Actually, she looked rather sad.

"I think I just heard you say stop," she said.

Later, after he figured out her injector had nothing to do with his case, he found him sitting in his truck across the street from the domain. He messed this one up big time. He hurt her, just like he always seemed to hurt Sara, and he felt maybe it was time to throw in the towel when it came to the opposite sex. He had a good 15 years left of his career; maybe he could just focus on that and leave the relationship stuff behind. His career was always there for him in the end, he reasoned.

Plus, the situation with his hearing was getting worse by the day. He finally decided to talk to Doc Robbins about it. The doctor gently poked around in Gil's ear and said, "I wish you'd come to me sooner. Your condition's pretty far along. Why did you wait?"

Gil shrugged and said, "I hoped it would go away." He knew it was ridiculous, but that was the true reason.

"Doesn't your mother have this condition?"

Gil acknowledged that yes, she did in fact have that condition. He admitted that his thinking wasn't exactly rational.

"Look, Gil, I'm not going to preach to you," Doc Robbins said. "You came to me, but doctor to doctor, there's a chance the bone deposits have spread into the inner ear, in which case, your hearing loss will eventually be permanent. If I were you, I'd schedule surgery as soon as possible."

So Gil did just that. He found a doctor willing to schedule him as soon as possible. He finally let out a sigh of relief that he was finally going to do something about his hearing.

What he didn't know was what he would do about Sara. A few weeks ago, she and Greg had been injured in a explosion that took out half the lab. He never asked her what she was doing so close to the explosion and she never told him. All he knew was when he was that after the explosion, after he saw an ambulance take a badly burned Greg away, he saw Sara sitting down on the curb, looking dazed and somewhat scared. He rushed over and saw that she had a few cuts, and she looked a tiny bit out of it.

"Are you okay?" He asked, very much concerned for her.

"Uh-huh," she said, looking at him distractedly.

He looked at her closely and noticed she had a deep cut on her hand.

"Honey, this doesn't look good." _Honey? Where the hell did that come from?_ He had no idea, but it was too late to worry about it now.

Sara tried to convince him that her hand was fine, but he insisted she would need stitches. She didn't seem to care much for that, but before she could say anything else, Gil was getting the paramedics to come take a look at her hand. He was glad Hank wasn't on the scene; he'd heard confidentially from Catherine that he was apparently a cheating bastard. He acted like that was completely useless information to him when Catherine casually brought it up in conversation, but this piece of news angered him in a way he wasn't really sure how to process. Sara didn't deserve that. She deserved better. She deserved the best.

Brass told Gil later that Sara seemed to think she developed superhero powers from the explosion. While she and Brass were checking out the apartment of a man they were trying to track down, she went into a room that hadn't been cleared yet and found the suspect hiding from the police. She shouted, "I found him!" Brass couldn't believe what happened and really reamed her out for doing what every CSI had been trained not to do.

This concerned Grissom and he wondered if he should talk to her about it. But, he figured, they were way past the point of sharing their feelings with each other. That ship had sailed a long, long time ago, before Hank and before Heather and before a lab explosion shook her up beyond recognition.

A few nights later, Grissom was sitting in his office, about to leave. He had the night off and was going to get some barbecue, go home and read his new entomology textbook he just bought. He couldn't think of anything he'd rather do. That is, until Sara came into his office.

"Do you have a minute?" She asked, that dazed look she had after the explosion still on her face.

"I was just leaving."

She said she knew was off that night, and so was she. He told her she should be on paid leave.

"You were fortunate, and I'm not talking about the explosion," he added.

"You talked to Brass," she said, looking sad.

He nodded. "And Nick."

"They got the guy," she said, trying to defend herself.

"Is that all you have to say?"

He was expecting her to try to defend herself again, or maybe ask for some time off to get her head together. He would have given it to her gladly; the lab explosion really did seem to shake her up.

Instead, she said, "Would you like to have dinner with me?"

So there it was. She was asking him out, and now he would have to come up with an answer. There in his office, while he was on the verge of needing surgery so he wouldn't go deaf, while his friend and colleague Catherine was at fault for the explosion of the lab and now she was on unpaid suspension because of it, and while he felt so damn old he could barely even recognize himself anymore. Did he want to go to dinner with Sara Sidle? Absolutely. _Could_ he go to dinner with Sara Sidle? Absolutely not.

He figured he was saving them both from weeks, months, maybe years of needless pain when he simply said, "No."

What she said next nearly killed him.

"Why not? Let's...let's have dinner. Let's see what happens."

He sighed. And he said, "Sara, I don't know what to do about _this."_

He thought that would be it. He thought he was telling her the truth, and she would appreciate that. He thought by acknowledging that there was something, there was _this,_ she would know that he felt something for her. But she didn't. She couldn't take it at face value. She didn't know he was trying to say, "There is something between us, but I don't know what it is. Give me time, and maybe I'll figure it out."

Instead, she said, "I do. You know, by the time you figure it out, it could be too late."

She walked out of his office before he had a chance to say _...it already is._


	10. Call me Mom

_2007_

 _From - NickTexStokes@aol.com  
To- SSidle@gmail.com  
Sent: Friday, May 18th, 2007 3:00 A.M._

 _Sara,_

 _You've probably heard that we caught the miniature killer. Man, when Sofia told me about that freak Natalie's apartment, it scared the crap out of me. But Grissom says you're fine and in California, so that's good to hear. We don't know what you're doing over there, but we all hope you're doing okay and getting some much needed rest. We miss you, though. Things definitely aren't the same without you._

 _Love, Nick_

 _P.S. - Um, Grissom said something weird, something about...love...or something. You know what? It's probably nothing. Come back soon!_

* * *

  
 _From - LeggomyGreggo@gmail.com_ _  
To - SSidle@gmail.com  
Sent: Saturday, May 19th, 8:27 A.M._

 _Sara,_

 _I know you're probably freaked out about the miniature killer being after you and all that, but I'm a little freaked out by Grissom admitting he's, like, freakishly in love with you. What happened to us, Sara? I thought we were forever! Anyway, we all miss you, but I think I may miss you a little more than anyone else. Come back to me soon!_

 _Love forever, Greg_

* * *

After Grissom told her about Natalie, Sara heard about the girl on the news. She was intrigued by this girl who looked so innocent and sweet, and she couldn't help comparing their situations. She wondered if Natalie knew Sara had been in the foster care system for 7 years. Grissom told her about the woman who took Natalie into foster care. She had to give Natalie up after only a few days because she was putting all the other girls in danger. Her temporary foster mother said that after a while, it was easy to tell the difference between a damaged child and a broken child. Natalie was definitely broken, while Sara somehow made it out of foster care merely damaged. Even if the girl was planning on kidnapping Sara and doing horrible things to her, Sara felt sorry for her. She hoped Natalie was getting the help she needed.

Meanwhile, in San Francisco, things weren't going so well. Laura was deteriorating before their eyes. Sara and Robbie hired a nurse, who came in the form of Nurse Nancy. Robbie admitted to Sara that he was pretty much afraid of Nancy and Sara was inclined to agree. Nancy was stocky, scowly, and almost just plain mean. Fortunately, Laura and Nancy got along like 2 old friends, so they kept her around.

Laura was going to the hospital daily to receive chemotherapy, but it wasn't working the way anyone hoped. Dr. Hawthorne, Laura's neurologist, told Sara and Robbie they could only do palliative therapy now, which meant that they were only trying to increase her survival, not cure the cancer.

"There isn't much left we can do," Dr. Hawthorne told them. "I know Dr. Williams told you the cancer has spread and our options are limited at this point."

Sara and Robbie knew this. They also knew their mother didn't have much fight left in her. Laura gave up a long time ago on trying to feel good about anything, much less her own health.

After a particularly rough day of chemo, the siblings took their mother home. Nancy had the day off, so they weren't afraid of coming in contact with her. Laura went right to bed, not even taking the time to complain about anything before she drifted off to sleep. Sara and Robbie sat by her bed, watching their ailing mother rest.

"Remember when Dad took us to the zoo?" Robbie asked Sara.

"Of course. That's one of the only things I remember about him anymore," she said.

"Yeah, me, too. Isn't that strange?"

"Not really. It was a good day. I think we've both tried our share of ways to block out the bad days."

Robbie nodded. "What do you remember most about that day?"

Sara thought about the time her dad took them to the zoo when she was 7 years old. She remembered the cotton candy. She remembered the monkeys making strange faces at everyone, and she thought at the time it was more annoying than amusing. She remembered being a little scared of how massive the lions looked. Most of all, she remembered her father holding her hand and pointing out all the interesting sights they came upon.

"I remember Dad getting really excited about seeing the giraffes. He took, like, 100 pictures," Sara said, smiling. "He put me up on his shoulders, but even up there we still weren't as tall as the giraffes. It was all he could talk about on the way home. Oh, until you puked the entire contents of your stomach out in the car."

"Yeah, too much cotton candy, I guess," Robbie said, matching Sara's smile.

"Do you think she meant to kill him?" Sara asked her brother.

If the sudden change of direction surprised Robbie, he didn't show it.

"If you mean did she know she was going to kill him right up until she actually did it, no. I really think it was a spontaneous decision. I think he mindfucked her so bad that she didn't even know right from wrong anymore. That's what I think."

"I don't know, Rob," Sara said. "She's not such an easy target. I think she stopped fighting back for a while because it was easier that way, but the more quiet she was, the more deep in thought she was."

Robbie looked at Sara and frowned.

"You really think that?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. You forget that I've seen enough death and murder and lying and backstabbing to last anyone a lifetime. When I was younger, I definitely thought she had no idea what she was doing. But I've changed my mind."

"I forget, you deal with that kind of stuff every day," Robbie said, his frown disappearing. "How do you do it?"

"I do it because of her," she said softly. "I do it for the victim. Even when the suspect is the victim, like she was."

They both fell silent, watching their mother sleep and wondering where it all went wrong.

* * *

  
 _From - GreeneyesBrown@msn.comm  
To - SSidle@gmail.com  
Sent: Sunday, May 17th, 2007 4:13 A.M._

 _Sara - Girl, you've sure got everybody talking around here. All it took for Grissom to declare his love for you was a crazy lady threatening to kill you, huh? Well, good for y'all. Of course I knew before everyone else (remember the veggie burger? Please!), but I was still kind of surprised that Griss just blurted it out like that. I think Nick and Greg are kind of in denial about it._

 _Anyway, I hope you're doing okay wherever you happen to be. Come back to us soon - there's someone out here who isn't doing so well without you._

 _\- Warrick_

* * *

  
 _From - Forensicchick@yahoo.com  
To - SSidle@gmail.com  
Sent: Sunday, May 17th, 2007 11:47 P.M._

 _Sara - I've been thinking for a few days about what to say to you, and I think I've figured it out - I'm sorry. I know you and Gil have had your moments over the years, but I figured both of you moved on. Before you get upset, I only thought that because you've both been so content lately, and I just figured you found someone to make you happy. Well, you did, and I'm glad. If I had known for one second that you guys were together, that he was in love with you, I would have never opened my mouth like that when we were processing Lady Heather's scene. Fishing off the company pier is okay if you have the right fishing pole, and I think you and Gil do._

 _We all miss you, Sara, and I'm not ashamed to say some more than others. Like I told you before you left, if whatever you left behind is real, it'll still be here when you get back. And, Sara? He's still here._

 _\- Catherine_

* * *

Laura woke up a few hours later. Robbie left for work, but Sara was still in Laura's room, reading a book and occasionally checking to see if her mother was still breathing. The book wasn't very interesting and Sara found herself thinking, as usual, about Grissom. They hadn't talked much lately, and she assumed he was still dealing with fall out from the miniature killer situation. She missed him. She missed him a lot, but she was a little distressed about the state of their relationship. Not for the first time, she wondered if their relationship would be any different at all when she came back home, if he would try at all to take his mind off everything else he was always so focused on and maybe spend a little quality time with her. She wondered if she'd still be his afterthought.

"What are you thinking about, dear?" Laura asked hoarsely, making Sara jump out of her chair.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," Laura said, smiling.

"Of course you meant to startle me, Mother, that was the point, wasn't it?"

Laura laughed, but quickly stopped. Laughter was painful these days for her.

"You know me so well, don't you? Anyway, what were you thinking about?"

"Oh, you know...boys." Sara said.

"Oh, really? Any particular boy on our minds these days?"

"Well...you know," Sara said, because she knew her mother already figured it out. One thing Sara learned was that Laura didn't need things explained to her. She was more likely to explain right back to you in greater detail.

"Your boss, huh? Is he also the man that taught that seminar, the one that convinced you to take up law enforcement?"

Sara nodded, wondering how her mother could be so perceptive.

"Is he a good man?" Laura asked, her tone serious.

"Yes. Yes, he is," Sara said, missing Gil Grissom more than ever.

"He must be, if you've followed him this far in your life. How long ago was that seminar?"

"Well, it was in 1995, so 12 years ago." Sara thought about how long she'd known the man she loved. 12 years was a long time, a good third of her life. They'd only been together 2 years, and 10 of those years were spent hoping, dreaming, longing, seeking, and learning.

"He would never...he would never hurt you, would he, Sara?"

"Of course not, Mother! He's never laid a hand on me!" She said, maybe too strongly.

"I mean...sorry. No, he wouldn't do that."

"It's okay, I know what you're thinking. Only a weak woman would fall in love with someone who would hurt her. I used to think that too until it actually happened. Things change, Sara. They change, and there's only so much a woman can stand."

Sara didn't have anything to say to that. Instead, she said, "Do you miss him?"

Laura looked thoughtful. Then she had a coughing fit, and Sara rushed to the kitchen to get her some water. When Laura settled down, she talked.

"Yes, I miss your father. I miss him very much. Things were good before they got bad, you know. He was a decent man before he started drinking so much. Before you and your brother were born, he used to talk all the time about how much he was looking forward to having kids. I knew he'd be a good father, and he was when alcohol wasn't involved. We were in love, Sara, and that was all that mattered most of the time."

They both went into their own worlds of thought for a moment. Sara had many more questions for her mother, but Laura looked so frail and delicate, she didn't want to upset her any more than she had to.

"Sara? Why do you call me 'Mother'? You used to call me Mama, or at least Mom."

"I don't know...I guess I'm just not comfortable calling you 'Mom' yet. You know? I don't know. It made sense in my head."

Laura laughed. She coughed, took a sip of water, and then laughed again.

"Well, it's now or never, right? I'd like you to call me Mom. Is that okay?"

"Of course...Mom. Of course it's okay."

Laura nodded, looking more tired and sad than Sara had seen her look in days. So, when Laura drifted off to sleep again, Sara covered her mother with a blanket and left her alone.

* * *

When Robbie came home after work, Sara decided to pay a visit to her old job. She kind of missed old Martin and Hannah and wanted to see how the team was doing. Before she left, she had to look up the directions online because she had no clue where it was. She'd always been terrible with directions.

After countless wrong turns, Sara finally found herself at the lab. She introduced herself to the secretary at the front desk, who directed her to Martin's office. Martin was sitting at his desk, doing some paperwork when Sara knocked on the door. He looked up, startled to see his former star employee.

"Sara Sidle! How nice to see you!" Martin said, smiling. She came in and shook his hand.

"Hi, Martin. I was in town and thought I'd stop by and say hello."

"Well, we're always happy to see you. How are things in Vegas?"

"Same as here, just with more strippers and breast implants," Sara said, suddenly missing Las Vegas.

"Of course, of course. And Gil? How is he doing?"

"Oh, he's busy working, as usual. He can rest a little easier now that they found the miniature killer." _At least I hope so,_ Sara thought with slight bitterness.

"Oh, yes, that woman that made miniature crime scene dioramas, right? It's been all over the news. How creepy!"

"What's creepy?" Sara heard a familiar voice say. She turned around to find Hannah grinning at her.

"Sara! What are you doing here?"

"Well, I wanted to see you, of course!" She said, giving her old friend and colleague a hug.

"What's new with you, lady? What are you doing in San Francisco?"

"I'm visiting my mother," Sara said. She wondered if she should add anything to that, but left it alone. They didn't have to know everything.

"Ah, that's nice. Well, I was just going to lunch. Do you want to join me?"

"Yeah, that would be fun," Sara said. It would be nice to talk to someone about something other than cancer and death for a while. Well, cancer anyway.

Martin, Sara and Hannah walked out to go to lunch together. On their way, she heard another familiar voice say, "Hey, where's the fire?"

She didn't want to turn around. She knew the voice, and she didn't want to look that voice in the eye. But she did anyway, because that was the polite thing to do.

"Hi, Chris," she said, trying hard to smile.

"Oh, wow. Hi, Sara. Good to see you." He did not look happy. Sara hadn't been back to San Francisco for nearly 7 years, but all the strange feelings were still in the air.

Hannah seemed amused by the situation. "Chris, would you like to join us for lunch?"

"Uh, no, that's okay. Hot case, you know."

He was staring at Sara as he talked. She finally had to look away.

And then the awkward scene was over. She went with her old co-workers to lunch and they had a nice time. Sara told them the trials and tribulations of Las Vegas; they filled her in on what she had missed in the world of San Francisco crime lab politics. It was a nice afternoon and she couldn't help but dread going back to the house. And she also couldn't help but wonder what Grissom was doing, and why he didn't seem to care what she was doing.

* * *

  
 _From - Thebugman@gmail.com  
To - SSidle@gmail.com  
Sent: Sunday, May 24th, 2007 3:42 A.M._

 _Honey -_

 _I miss you. I miss you a lot more than I thought I was going to. I hope you're getting everything out of this experience that you wanted to; you deserve to get some peace of mind. I'm sorry I haven't called you more; there's just been a lot of strange things going on here and I'm trying to put out a lot of different fires._

 _Just know that I'm thinking about you, and I love you. I've loved you for a long time, and if I were still a religious man, I'd be thanking God every day for bringing you into my life. In fact, I do that anyway._

 _Bruno misses you, too. He's claimed one of your t-shirts as his own, and he sleeps with it all the time. It's a little pathetic, really, how much us men miss you._

 _\- Grissom_


	11. I'm Still Here

_Vegas, year four_

She couldn't believe it had come to this. Her fourth year in Vegas started as well as it ended, which is to say badly.

The officer who pulled her over and gave her the breathalyzer was rude and nasty and she wanted like hell to hate him, but when he saw her badge when she pulled out her wallet to give him her license, he softened. The officer did not want to get another fellow member of the department in trouble, and besides, they had only just lowered the limit. So he told her what he would do. The other option was a night in the drunk tank and a permanent mark on her record, and she almost would have taken that over the alternative if she hadn't been so ashamed.

While she was waiting for Grissom to come pick her up, she thought about the past year. How she asked Grissom out and how his brutal "no" would follow her around for months. She'd have nightmares sometimes about that "No." The "no" seemed to haunt her even when she started to have even one moment of happiness.

She thought about that night, a few months after she asked him out, when he pinned her against the wall, after she asked him to, of course, to show how wax was transferred from victim to suspect. _Pin me down_ , she told him. He nodded and grabbed her hands while she simulated how the victim struggled. And then when she mentioned the suspect put his palms down on the sheet for leverage, Grissom's hands traveled down, slightly grazing her arm, to put them around her waist. The graze lasted approximately 2 seconds. She couldn't stop thinking about it for months. In her dreams, the moment would never end with just the graze. The dream never ended with her stepping out of his arms that were nearly wrapped around her to blab about how she always seemed to overtalk when she was around him. In her dream, after the graze, he kept looking in her eyes and somehow became hypnotized by her existence. Even though the door was wide open and anyone could have seen them, he moved closer to her so they were eye to eye, and before she knew it, lips to lips. In her dreams, the kiss was always the most sensual experience of her life.

Her thoughts then turned to where they would inevitably go every time she closed her eyes; to when she stood behind the glass of the interrogation room, listening to him reject her over and over and over again to a bitter stranger, the whole time thinking _how could he not know that I'm standing right here?_ The man, a Dr. Lurie, told Grissom, "I'm still here." And Grissom replied, "Are you?" And Sara wondered the same thing. Was she still there, pining after a man who couldn't even admit to her face to face that while he had feelings for her, he just couldn't...wouldn't act on them?

But what really stung the most, what really drove her crazy beyond anything...he STILL had that look in his eye. Whenever she looked him in the eye, which was not often these days because she couldn't handle it, the look was there. It was a look of longing, a look she knew all too well. And it was breaking her.

It wasn't just Grissom that she had a problem with. She hadn't made any friends in Vegas, really, and found herself alone more often than not. When it got to be that time of the month where she was maxed out on overtime and had nothing to do but go home and think about her life, she wondered what happened to her over the past couple of years. She liked her co-workers but they didn't hang out much socially, other than the occasional breakfast at the diner down the street. There was Hank, who she hadn't spoken to since their awkward exchange in the hallway. And that was it, really. From time to time, her friends in California would call her and they'd talk for a few minutes, but that was about all the social interaction she would have.

There was the promotion. She and Nick were up for a promotion, and she thought she deserved it. Her whole life was work, and she definitely thought this qualified her for the promotion. It seemed to her that Nick didn't even care about getting it, and this drove her crazy. And then she found out first that the promotion wouldn't happen, and then she found out that if it did happen, it would go to Nick, she was not happy. She had to think it somehow had something to do with Grissom and their strange, hurtful relationship.

And when all those thoughts jumbled around in her head for so long she was sick and tired of having them, she would always think about her mother. She missed her mom, believe it or not. She wondered what her mother would have to say about everything that was happening to her. Laura Sidle was out of prison now, had been for a year or two. Sara knew this because her long estranged brother sent her a newspaper clipping about the whole ordeal. The word "forgiveness" had been on her mind a long time, but she wasn't ready to deal with it yet. There was too much unresolved drama in her life to even think about doing something about her mother.

Now she could add a new problem to the list: burgeoning alcoholic. Well, why not? It was in her blood, wasn't it? It was what made her father beat her mother and brother repeatedly over the years. It was what her brother turned to at an early age to get through the long days and nights of abuse. It was what her mother did when no one was looking, so when her husband came home it made the beatings a little less painful. She was just a product of her genes, right? So why not drink?

Alcohol wasn't usually what she turned to when the nights were long and the days sleepless. She had her time as a binge drinker in college like most students did, and then she got over it. But she found herself going to the liquor store and stocking up after the case with Dr. Lurie. The victim had been a nurse, and she couldn't help but notice how she and the girl had more than just a faint resemblance. She didn't think much about it until Catherine commented on it, and she let her thoughts wander to where they never should have gone. Was that...no, it couldn't be why Grissom seemed to be taking this case so personally, why he'd make up some excuse to get off the phone with her when she called, why he even seemed to be staring at her when there was no reason to even be looking in her direction.

Based on a hair Grissom found while going through the nurse's jewelry collection, they found their suspect, Dr. Lurie. Sara was always in for a good interrogation, so she watched the whole thing from behind the glass in the interrogation room. Grissom was mostly silent while Brass interrogated the doctor, who deflected every question with a clever answer. When it looked like Lurie was going to get away scott free, Grissom gave the speech that Sara would remember for the rest of her life.

Dr. Lurie was apparently involved sexually with Debbie, the nurse, and it was their theory that he killed her and her young lover, also a doctor, in a jealous rage. When Grissom spoke, he was almost empathetic with the doctor, which sickened Sara to her very core.

Grissom spoke slowly, introspectively.

"It's sad, isn't it, doc? Guys like us. Couple of middle-aged men who've allowed their work to consume their lives. The only time we ever touch other people is when we're wearing our latex gloves. We wake up one day and realize that for fifty years we haven't really lived at all. But then, all of a sudden we get a second chance. Somebody young and beautiful shows up. Somebody...we could care about. She offers us a new life with her, but we have a big decision to make, right? Because we have to risk everything we've worked for in order to have her."

He paused for a second. What he said next, 4 simple words that should never have meant so much, would break Sara in two.

"I couldn't do it..."

And then she tuned out. She didn't care what else he had to say to this man who was obviously guilty. He couldn't do it, huh? Well, if that was the case, neither could she.

So a part of her was closed, sealed off. Another part of her, the part of her that she figured was destined to become an alcoholic, started making itself known. She knew this was not going to be good when Brass took notice of her sucking down cough drops at a crime scene like there was no tomorrow. Nick noticed, too, but it didn't seem to raise any warning signals in his mind.

Brass took her aside later. He confronted her about the cough drops and she tried to tell him it was because she had a cold. In reality, she had a few drinks after shift, not expecting to be called in a few hours later.

Brass nodded when she told him about the cold.

"I understand colds. You know, back in Jersey when I was getting it from both ends, from my wife and my work, uh ... things started to get heavy. I started "medicating". Cure my cold. And, um, and god forbid I had an early morning rollout and I had that tell-tale breath, you know what I mean? So I would dodge my supe, and I started popping cough drops."

Sara knew she was busted. All she could say was, "Huh."

"I mean, what I'm trying to say is that...there's more problems than answers in the bottom of a bottle, believe me."

Sara brushed him off at the time, but she thought about these words while she was sitting in that uncomfortable chair, waiting for the man she wanted to see less than anyone else in the world right now. She thought about how easy it was to pick up a bottle and let it solve her problems for her, but when she woke up in the morning with nothing but a headache, the problems were still always there.

 _This is rock bottom,_ she thought. _It has to be._ When she came to Vegas, she had no idea it was going to be like this. Had she known, she would have spared everyone the trouble and stayed in San Francisco, where she obviously belonged. Maybe she and Chris would have been married by now, talking about kids with a gleam in their eye.

But she knew that wouldn't be the life for her. It had always been Gil Grissom, and even if she never did wind up with him, at least she went down fighting.

She heard footsteps coming into the room. She didn't look up; she knew it was him. She could only imagine how disappointed he was in her.

He sat in the chair next to her. She still looked down at her feet. And then he took her hand in his, and said, "Come on, I'll take you home."

These simple words, that simple touch, was all it took for her to realize she was heading down the wrong path. There was no disappointment in those words, only empathy. He cared about her. He might have even loved her. But he was protecting both of them by not taking it any further than that. It was heartbreaking, but it was refreshing at the same time. It was what she needed to start getting herself together.

* * *

Grissom didn't know what to expect when he walked in the room to find Sara waiting for him. He imagined he was the last person she wanted to see. He was glad the officer called him; he would be horrified if Sara had been taken to jail.

She looked so alone and sad sitting in that chair. What brought her to this point? She was always so careful and thoughtful of her actions. His heart was breaking for her, and not for the first time.

He sat next to her and held her hand. It was cold where he thought it would be hot. She refused to look at him, and he didn't blame her. He couldn't help but blame himself; he put her through a lot this year with the promotion and everything else.

 _Everything else_ , he thought. _That couldn't even begin to cover it._

 _Pin me down,_ she told him. And he did, not even thinking about it. But he thought about it later. Sometimes it was all he could think about. How they were so close he could feel her breath on his face. How her forearm felt when he slightly grazed it. How he wanted to kiss her so much it actually physically hurt him. And how confused he was when she stepped out of his arms and said awkwardly, "Grissom, I need to talk to you about something."

"Go ahead," he said, not sure what to expect. She brought up the promotion, which he wish didn't exist. She and Nick were both going for it, and to choose between them was like choosing which of his favorite cockroaches to race. He didn't want to.

"About that. I, um...I needed to know... I wanted to make sure, rather, that anything that happened or didn't happen between us won't be a factor."

His confusion must have shown clearly on his face, because she rushed to say, "Never mind. I shouldn't have said anything."

She turned to leave, the most awkward of smiles pasted on her face.

"I, um...I'm always over-talking around you." And then she escaped, fleeing from her obvious embarrassment, which he found confusing but completely charming and endearing.

What nobody seemed to notice was how he was doing his best to change. Not just because of Sara, but because everything around him was changing and he thought maybe it was time to adjust to his surroundings. A case called him out to Jackpot, Nevada where he reluctantly bonded with some of the locals. One of them asked him, "You don't keep any secrets, Mr. Grissom?"

He told him, "I used to. I'm trying to change." And he was. He was trying to have more of a sense of humor about things, like everybody else seemed to have. He tried his hand at being more political, like Catherine always insisted he do. He even tried going home when the shift was over, which he didn't really enjoy all that much. He liked having a sense of accomplishment, and that was hard to do while sitting at home.

All that changed with the case of Dr. Lurie and Debbie Marlin. Maybe he'd been trying to deny his feelings for Sara. Maybe he'd been thinking about her too much. Maybe he felt guilty for saying no when she asked him out. Whatever it was, the case made him doubt his sanity more than any other case he'd ever taken on before.

It was a gruesome murder, a little more disturbing than the ones the CSIs saw on a daily basis. The victims were found in trash cans in the alley, cut up into many pieces and put in plastic bags. And as soon as he saw the victim, Debbie, lying in a strange position in her bathroom, surrounded by a pool of blood, he couldn't help but notice how similar she looked to Sara. And that's when it started.

When he stepped out the door to give the team instructions, there was a frenzy going on outside. EMTs, the media, neighbors; everybody wanted a piece of this crime scene. But the only person he saw when he opened the door was Sara. She seemed to be looking right through him. However, Brass was standing next to Sara and figured he was looking at him, so he walked over to him and said, "Ready for us?"

From that moment, Grissom tried his hardest to stay away from Sara. He assigned her the perimeter of the house instead of anything inside the house. This irritated her, but at that point he couldn't care less. When she called him later with news that she found a stray hair with a skin tag, all he wanted to do was get off the phone with her. He told her to give the hair to Greg.

"Yeah, I did. Hey, do you want me to come over there and give you a hand?"

That was the very last thing he wanted.

"No, I-I'm fine. I'll-I'll, uh ... I'll talk to you back at the lab." He quickly hung up.

The case consumed him. He was well into his third shift, 24 hours with no sleep and barely anything to eat, when he found a hair by Debbie's jewelry box. They eventually matched the hair to Dr. Lurie, who was brought in for questioning.

As Brass made a case for this man being the killer, Grissom felt an empathy for the doctor that was simply disgusting. The man fell in love with a younger woman, a woman who wanted to give him everything he ever wanted. And then the woman left him for someone younger, who was better prepared to give her what she wanted. It was Grissom's worst nightmare, and one of the biggest reasons he never pursued anything with Sara. If he had her and things worked out, he would be the happiest man alive. But if he had her and lost her...he couldn't even think about everything he could lose.

When he had enough of Lurie dodging the questions, he began to speak. He knew Brass was in the room. He even knew it was possible Sara was watching from behind the glass. He knew she was fond of a good interrogation. But at that point, after not even remembering the last time he slept, after being so consumed with thoughts of a woman he was so dangerously in love with, he no longer cared.

After Brass explained his theory of why Lurie killed the young nurse, Lurie's lawyer said, "Thank you for your time and your theories, but you said it yourself: You don't have a case." He looked at Lurie. "Doctor."

And then Grissom heard himself say, "It's sad, isn't it, doc? Guys like us. Couple of middle-aged men who've allowed their work to consume their lives..." and he kept talking, and he didn't care who was listening. It was only later, right before he finally was able to drift off to sleep, did he allow himself to think she was listening. And what horrified him the most was that he hoped she was listening, because then she would know. She would finally know.

* * *

He put his arm around Sara and walked her to his car. She quietly told him where she lived and they drove there in silence. There were so many things he wanted to say, but he didn't want to bother her. He could only guess what she was feeling, and he didn't want to make it worse.

But when they got to her apartment, when she opened the door to leave he put a hand on her arm.

"Wait," he said.

She waited.

"Sara, I'm...I'm sorry for...well, I'm sorry. I haven't been the best friend I could have been to you, and I sincerely apologize to you for that."

She didn't say anything, just stared out the window, probably trying to plot her escape.

"I think you should take some time off. You're probably the best CSI I have, and if you need some time to get your head together, I'm more than willing to give it to you."

She nodded. "I think I will. I think it's come to the point where I need to."

"Can you tell me what happened?" He asked her gently.

"I grew up with alcoholics," she said. "It seemed like the natural way to find an answer to a problem. Tonight, after I went out with Nick and Warrick, I stopped at a bar and had a few more drinks. Then I drove home. It wasn't smart. It was reckless. I realize I have a problem, and I want to do whatever it takes to fix it."

He was impressed she understood the consequences of her actions. Still, his heart broke for her. If he was a different man, he would hug her and tell her everything would be okay.

 _Hell,_ he thought. _I'm not a different man. I never will be a different man. So why not do it anyway?_

He got out of the car and quickly came over to the passenger side. He opened her door, and eventually she figured she was to step out of the car. He walked her to the door of her apartment, thinking about how much things had changed since he walked her to the door so many years ago at Berkeley. He wanted to kiss her as much now as he did back then. Instead, he gave her a hug. He wrapped his arms around her and held her to close to him. At first, she was too shocked to hug him back. After she figured out he wasn't going to stop, she wrapped her arms around him and put her head on his shoulder. He felt warm drops of liquid on his shoulder: her tears.

"It's going to be okay," he said. And for the first time, he might have actually meant it.


	12. A long time coming

_2000_

"So what brought you into this exciting field of law enforcement?" Chris asked Sara over coffee. Both of them had pulled a double, and it was a pretty gruesome case of woman killing her lover in a fit of passion. It hit way too close to home for Sara. Chris noticed she was a little disturbed by the case, so he took her to get some coffee.

Sara wasn't ready to tell Chris about her mother. They'd only been dating a week or two, although it seemed much longer. He was a nice guy, and she enjoyed spending time with him. She did feel, however, that his feelings for her were a little more intense than her feelings for him.

"When I was at Berkeley and wondering what field to go into, I went to a lecture taught by, uh, Gil Grissom," she said, feeling weird about saying his whole name. "He talked about his career as a crime scene investigator and how he used science to help solve crimes, and I was fascinated by that, so...that's how it happened."

"Fascinated by the career or fascinated by him?" He asked, not very kindly.

She just looked at him.

"I mean, I didn't know if you're aware of it or not, but you talk about this Grissom guy a lot."

Sara shrugged. There was no way she could put into words how she felt about "this Grissom guy," especially not with Chris. Her feelings for Gil Grissom were on a different level than those she had for Chris, and she couldn't even begin to tell him something like that.

"Well, he kind of got me this job here, and he influenced my decision to go into the field. He's my mentor, I guess you would say."

Chris looked annoyed.

"Yeah, well...anyway, do you want to go see a movie later?"

"Sure," Sara said distractedly.

They drank their coffee and left to go to their respective homes to clean up and take a nap, making plans to see a movie later. Before Sara got in her car, Chris said, "Hey, Sar, wait a second." And then he kissed her. For a first kiss, it was very nice. Sara let herself enjoy the moment.

"Sar, I think...I think it's possible I'm falling in love with you," he whispered. She didn't know quite what to say to that. Thankfully, he just grinned at her and walked to his car. As she watched him drive out of the parking lot, she wondered what was next for the two of them.

She didn't find out. A week later, Grissom summoned her to Vegas, and she left California to follow the man she was hopelessly in love with, leaving the man that was hopelessly in love with her behind. She didn't look back.

* * *

  
 _2007_

2 months had passed since Sara left Las Vegas, and her mother was deteriorating before her eyes. Laura decided to stop doing the chemo because it was only making her feel worse. She just wanted the cancer to take its course, and soon. Nurse Nancy still came every day to give Laura her meds and make sure everything was happening the way it should.

Sara sat by Laura's side for many hours a day, talking to her mother when she was awake and reading when she wasn't. She caught up on all the latest forensic and scientific journals. _Grissom would be proud,_ she thought.

Grissom was still writing the occasional email, sending the occasional text message and calling her every couple of days, but she wasn't feeling right about the relationship. It wasn't that she didn't know he loved her. It wasn't even that she wanted him to contact her more just so she could know he was thinking about her. One thing Sara didn't doubt was the fact Grissom loved her. What she did doubt was how far he was prepared to go to make it work between them.

With all the spare time she had on her hands, she found herself thinking about the relationship more than what was normal for her. How she and Grissom knew each other in and out, but didn't always know the important things. Grissom knew Sara's dirty secrets - like how her favorite movie was really Terminator 2, even though she always told everybody it was something classier like Citizen Kane. But he didn't know how sometimes she wanted a cigarette so bad she'd dream about smoking. She gave up smoking in college, a few months before she met him for the first time, but it was still a craving she sometimes had.

That was just one example, and Sara could think of way too many more. She and Grissom could discuss anything from the big bang theory to the sex life of a butterfly, but when it came to their relationship, neither of them was very good at talking about it. They'd been together a little more than 2 years, and they still had so much left to learn about each other. How much time did they need? How long was it going to take for him to understand every little part of her? And did she really want that?

When she wasn't thinking about her strange relationship, she was thinking about her mother. Sara found herself thinking 2 distinct thoughts: one, that she desperately wished she would have reconnected with her mother sooner; and two, that it was a good thing she didn't because it would have made losing Laura that much harder. _Who am I kidding?_ Sara would ask herself when she thought it made things easier. _It IS that much harder._

Sara thought about the good times. Even during the times of abuse, there was the calm before the storm. When Robbie and Sara came home from school and did their homework in the kitchen while Laura cooked dinner. When Laura would take a break from cooking and help them with math equations and diagraming sentences. When their dad would come home from work in a good mood and take them out for ice cream. Sara missed those moments, and she wished she could savor them without that one extra detail.

On one of Laura's better days, Robbie and Sara sat in her dark, stale room and talked. She wanted to know everything about their lives. Robbie talked about going to rehab and breaking free of his addictions, and the woman that made it so much easier for him to do it.

"Her name is Stacy. She lives in Miami, and she's wonderful," Robbie said, eyes glowing with happiness. "I met her the day I came out of rehab. I was staying at my buddy Mike's house, and she was his neighbor. We passed in the hallway, our eyes connected...and ever since, she's helped me stay on track. Mom, she's amazing."

Laura smiled. "I wish I could meet her."

Robbie didn't even bother with the platitudes. He didn't say, "Oh, well, there's still time," or, "Maybe someday I'll bring you out there." Instead, he smiled with her and said, not without regret, "I wish you could, too. She would have loved that."

Sara found herself talking about her co-workers, which pleased Laura and Robbie. They liked hearing about Catherine and her personal dramas, Nick and his way with women, Warrick overcoming his gambling addiction, Greg discovering himself out in the field, and Grissom's pleasant quirkiness. She even threw in Hodges for good measure, saying "We all thought he was vaguely psychotic at first, but he's grown on us."

Sometimes, in between drifting between being in a deep sleep and being painfully awake, Laura would get sentimental. Sara hoped this sentimental Laura would get the answers she needed so she could get some peace before she died.

"Sara," Laura asked now, slowly and carefully. Her speech was becoming slurred and sometimes she mixed up words, so she spoke very slowly these days. "What would you have done if you were me?"

Sara thought about it for a few seconds before answering. She wasn't sure her mother really wanted to know the answer to that particular question. However, she decided honesty was the way to go.

"Well, I don't think I'd ever be in that situation, first of all," she said, looking in her mother's weary eyes. "I've just been around too much of it my whole life, and I would recognize the signs of an abusive man before I went too far into a relationship with him. But if it did come to that, where I had to make some kind of choice as to how to get out of the situation...well, I think I would have done the same thing. I think there's a gene, Mom, a murder gene. And it may very well be in my blood. I may be programmed to fight, and if it came down to that, I would."

Robbie stared at her, but her mother only smiled. And then she went back to sleep, looking more peaceful than Sara had seen in a long time.

* * *

Sara needed to get a way for a few hours, so she went to a cafe to have some coffee and check her email. Her laptop was collecting dust and she wondered how long it had even been since she checked her email, maybe a week or two? She looked at the ones from Grissom first, which all basically said the same thing - _I love you, I miss you, come home soon._ She checked a few work emails he forwarded her since she made a vow not to check her work email until she came back to Vegas. And then she came across an unknown email address. She was going to regard it as spam and just delete it when she saw the subject - _It was good to see you._ Curious, she opened the email.

 _From: To: -_

It was really good to see you the other day when you came to the lab. I really could have gone with you and the gang to lunch, but honestly, I chickened out. I know that's lame, but what can I say? It's been 7 years and I still think about you a little every day. You look good, Sara. I guess life in the desert is treating you well.

I was wondering, if you're still in town that is, if we could get together. Have lunch, talk a little, you know, catch up. If you don't want to, I understand. But there are some things I think you should know, and it would be nice we could sit down and talk. I get it if you don't - I'm a part of your past and I understand that.

Give me a call some time if that sounds okay - 415-692-5667

\- Chris  


* * *

The next day, Sara found herself nervously waiting for Chris at a Mexican restaurant near the lab. She figured she was coming to terms with her past, why not try to make things right with Chris?

Her guilty conscience was really the reason why she agreed to this meeting. When she left California, she barely even thought about how Chris would feel. She was so excited to work for Grissom that that was all she could think about. Besides, they'd only been dating a week or two anyway; she thought he'd get over it as fast as she did. Apparently she was wrong.

Chris appeared a few minutes later, looking handsome as usual. She smiled at him when he came through the door, and he smiled back. A girl could definitely appreciate that smile of his.

"Hi, Sara. Thanks for coming, I appreciate it."

Sara nodded, a curious smile on her lips.

"So how are things in Vegas? How are things with...what was his name? Gus?"

"Gil. Vegas is...Vegas. Same as here, only flashier," she said, trying to avoid what she knew would be his next question.

"And Gil? How is he?"

Sara sighed. What did he want her to say?

"It was a long time coming, but we just had our 2 year anniversary. We're very happy."

He nodded, expecting that answer.

"I figured. I'm happy for you, Sara. The way you used to talk about that guy...you had a gleam in your eye that you never had when you looked at me."

"What can I say, Chris? I mean, besides I'm sorry?" She was getting a little fed up with this guy and they'd barely been talking for 5 minutes. "Because I am. Sorry, that is. But an opportunity came up in Vegas, and Grissom was there, and everything-"

"Sara, you don't have to apologize for not feeling the same way about me that I felt-feel-about you. I wanted to see you today because I don't think you realize how amazing you are. You need to know, Sara. You need to know that you have an impact on people, especially-well, especially me. I haven't forgotten you. And you just need to know that."

Sara was flattered, but she still didn't quite understand.

"But, Chris...we only went out for a few weeks. How could I have made that much of an impact?" She knew the words were harsh, but she found herself interested in the answer. What was it about her that made him unable to forget?

"Like you said about your "Grissom" person, it was a long time coming. It didn't happen when we started dating, Sara. It happened the very first second I met you."

Stunned, Sara tried to think about the first time they met, but she didn't remember anything about it. However, ask her about the day she met Gil Grissom, and she could tell you what the weather was like, what she was wearing, what he was wearing, what the girl who was sitting next to her was wearing,...and then something dawned on her. She worked so hard to get Grissom to come through for her. It was almost like every day when she went to work, she was performing her one act play, "Grissom, pick me," whether she knew it or not. She worked for this relationship. She fought for it. And here was Chris, telling her he had feelings for her from the very beginning. And she didn't have to do a thing. She knew it was wrong, feeling good about these feelings he had for her, but it was also nice to know. Sometimes, you didn't have to work for love. Sometimes it was just there, hidden where it would never be found.

"Anyway, enough about that. How much longer are you in town?"

In theory, Sara had a month left of leave. What she wasn't going to tell anybody was how she might be planning on staying a little longer then that. California was good for her. She was facing her demons and coming out the better for it. The question was, how many demons did she have? And how long could she avoid going back to Vegas to confront the relationship that may or may not be on the rocks?

"Um, probably about a month. I still have some stuff to do."

"Well, give me a call if you want, okay?"

She nodded. They stayed away from talk of the past and talk of Grissom and happily ate their food. Before they left, Chris gave Sara a lingering hug that intrigued her in a way it probably shouldn't. She kissed him on the cheek and sped away, this time looking in her mirror to see him watching her go.

* * *

Later, she called Grissom, anxious to hear his voice. He sounded happy to hear from her. They talked about the usual: work, her mother, how Bruno was doing. When Sara couldn't fight it any longer, she asked a question she knew would probably get on his nerves.

"Griss...when I get home, do you think we can spend more time together? Like, away from the office? I know that's such a girly question, but...it's something that's been on my mind."

Grissom was quiet, but she could tell he was probably shaking his head and wondering what the hell he could possibly say to his attention-starved girlfriend.

"I try, Sara. You know I try. I would rather spend time with you than anyone else in the world, but I'm responsible for a lot of things around here."

"I know, babe, I do. But maybe you could be a little less responsible sometimes. Maybe you could give Catherine some responsibility. Maybe you could-"

"Okay, I get the point. And I've been thinking about handing over the reins to Catherine. And I will soon, okay? But right now, there are so many things to take care of, I wouldn't want put all of that on her plate, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Sara said, trying not to sound as disappointed as she was.

"Honey, come on. I'm in this for the long haul, you know that."

"Okay. Love you."

He sighed. "I love you too, honey. I miss you so much."

When she hung up, she could only think one thing: _I will never be more than his afterthought._


	13. Welcome to the Real World

_Vegas, year five_

"So, Sara, your year of counseling is almost over. Do you think you've made some progress since we started together?"

Pamela was Sara's PEAP counselor. Sara agreed to take a few months off from work and see a counselor for at least 6 months, but she found the counseling so beneficial she told Pamela she'd see her for a year. She was definitely hesitant to talk to this woman in the beginning, but she found that talking to a total stranger was actually quite refreshing. Sara told Pamela things she would never tell anyone, and felt an immediate release after she talked about it.

"Well, I think my outburst with Catherine and almost subsequent firing by Ecklie didn't go so well, but other than that, I think it's been a good year. I do feel better about things. I mean, last year was awful, there was nowhere to go but up."

"Why do you think this year was better?" Pamela asked her. "Do you think it has something to do with taking on a mentoring role with Mr. Sanders?"

Sara smiled. She didn't really think of herself as a mentor, but she did get a lot of satisfaction out of giving advice to Greg. He really was turning out to be a very efficient, if not a somewhat absentminded, CSI. She knew he looked up to her, and that was a major factor in her growth this year.

"Yeah, Greg is awesome. He's really doing well, and I do like to think I have been some part of that. I like helping him. I like watching him grow into a good investigator. And his friendship is becoming very valuable to me, too. We even hang out off the clock now, just the two of us."

Pamela raised her eyebrows ever so slightly, so slightly that Sara wouldn't have noticed if she wasn't looking at her carefully.

"Oh, well, is that something we should talk about?"

Sara considered the question. In fact, she'd been considering the question with more frequency over the last year, but she always came to the same conclusion: she had no urge to go there with Greg. A few situations had occurred during their social outings that could lead to other things, but when Sara really looked deep into her heart, there was nothing romantic about her feelings for her younger colleague. It was a shame. It would have made things so much easier.

"No. We're just friends. I enjoy spending time with him, really, that's all."

"Hmm. I understand, since you never seem to take your mind too far from your supervisor."

And there it was. Sara tried to avoid that subject as much as possible, but Pamela was no fool. As soon as the word "Grissom" came out of Sara's mouth the first time, Pamela was instantly on to her. She asked so many leading questions about it, one day Sara finally had to say, "Okay, yes, I have feelings for Grissom. I moved here for Grissom. I wish things could be different for us, but they aren't and it seems they never will be."

Instead of the smirk Sara was expecting, Pamela only looked back at her with concern obvious in her eyes.

"Do you think maybe it was a little...irresponsible of you to come to Vegas only because you had feelings for someone who would have power over you?"

Well, Sara certainly hadn't been expecting that question. She never really thought about it in those terms, either.

"Honestly? I don't know anymore. I'd like to think I didn't just move here for him; that I wanted to further my career and work on different cases. But I could have done that in California."

They continued that line of questioning for a long time, in many different sessions. Back in the present day, Sara smiled when Pamela brought Grissom up. She'd been smiling a lot more than usual lately.

"You're smiling, Sara. I like that. Tell me more about what happened at the mental hospital. How did you feel when he was trying to get the attendant to unlock the door when the inmate was attacking you?"

Just a week or two before, Sara and Grissom were investigating a case at the mental institution. Grissom walked away to look for something and left Sara in the nurse's station. A patient, Adam Trent, attacked her with a dagger he made in art class. She was terrified, of course, but she also knew she'd be okay. Grissom was there. He would save her. He'd make it right, just like he always did. It was the only thing that kept her sane during the attack. Even when he was looking through the door, helpless, terror showing clearly in his blue eyes, she knew it was all going to be okay.

When the chaos settled down and they arrived safely back at the lab, Sara stopped by his office before she left for the day, something that was becoming routine. He smiled when she stopped by and said, "Go home and get some rest. If you need to, take tomorrow off. I understand how being attacked like that could shake up a person." Sara wondered briefly if he was referring to her or himself.

"I'm okay. Thank you for your...concern."

He nodded, and she was about to turn around leave but something stopped her. He looked like he wanted to say something, something she didn't want to miss.

And he did. "Sara, I was worried about you in there. I'm still worried. Worried AND concerned. If Adam Trent wanted to, he could have...well, it could have been worse. It scared me. And I'm glad you're okay."

Was that emotion coming from her boss? Actually, Sara wasn't that surprised. Ever since he came to her apartment and she told him, finally, about her past, he had been very careful around her. It was maddening and yet weirdly refreshing at the same time.

"He told me he was worried about me," Sara told Pamela. "And it was nice. I didn't do what I've done for so many years now and misinterpret it as romantic. He wants to be my friend, so that's what I'm doing - letting him be my friend. It's like once I decided that the chance for us to get involved romantically was long gone, our friendship has gotten so much stronger. And I really value that. It's become very important to me."

"Have you asked yourself what you would do if the chance for romance did present itself?" Pamela asked.

"Well, yeah. I mean, of course. A few months ago, when I apologized to him for saying some things to Ecklie that I probably shouldn't have, I don't know...I kind of told him that he had always been more of a boss to me. I told him that was why I moved to Vegas. And he just looked at me. Stared at me, really. With that same confused look he's been giving me for 5 straight years. But then he started to say something. He wanted to say something. What he actually said was, and this is verbatim, 'Look, let's, uh...' and then he stopped."

"What did you think he was going to say?" Pamela asked.

"I think he was going to maybe suggest we get together some time! But I didn't know if he was going to say it out of pity or what, so I saved him. I told him we had our post PEAP counseling session and make sure to document it for Ecklie. If something does ever happen, and believe me, I'm not holding my breath...I don't want it to be out of pity. I want it to be genuine. I want it to be real."

"That makes sense to me," Pamela said, nodding.

"Things have been strange since Ecklie split up the team. I don't see Nick and Warrick much, which is sad. And Sofia is on our team, too. Yeah, um, Sofia."

She knew Sofia and Grissom went to dinner. It was soaring through the grapevine on hyperspeed. How many times, she didn't know. She tried not to care, but she did. It was more the fact that she always thought Grissom never made the next move because he was scared of the consequences for his career, but the fact that he was practically dating Sofia seemed to show that wasn't really the issue.

"It's hard sometimes, you know? Because on one hand I'm over it. I value our friendship and I've definitely come to terms that it'll never be more than that. I'm working a lot with Greg, I'm doing yoga again, I'm cooking more, trying to work less. But then sometimes I'll have these dreams, and I'll wake up thinking about him, and it stays with me all day. It's just frustrating."

Pamela nodded and took some notes. It used to drive Sara crazy how Pamela would silently take notes in her little black notebook. But when she asked Pamela about it during their fourth or fifth session, Pamela smiled and actually showed Sara what she wrote down. It didn't say, 'is psychotic, needs to be admitted immediately to mental hospital.' Pamela was just writing what Sara told her, nothing else. This gave Sara some relief, anyway.

"We don't have a lot of time left, but I do have one more question. You mentioned once that when he came to check on you after the confrontation with your coworker, things were different. How are they different? I'm really asking out of curiosity, actually."

Sara thought about how surprised she was to see him standing at her door. She was sure he was there to fire her, but he only wanted to understand her. After all these years of trying not to slip up, mention anything about her past, to finally let it all out and tell Grissom where she came from, why she let cases affect her more than usual sometimes...it was a great relief. And when he took her hand, she knew he understood. And she was more grateful then he would ever know.

"He's nicer. He's more friendly. He doesn't avoid me. We actually talk now instead of grunt at each other in the hallways. It's been nice."

Pamela nodded again. She nodded a lot.

"Well, Sara, I have to tell you, when you came to me nearly a year ago, I have to say there were many things we needed to cover before I felt like we could make progress. But let me tell you - you have. I think that confrontation with your coworker was needed, actually. I think you'd been holding it in for a long time, and once it happened, once you talked to your supervisor about it...I think it was cathartic for you. And I think this next year will be even better, even if I don't get to see your progress on a weekly basis."

Sara thanked her and walked away smiling. She was proud of the progress she made this year. And even though she did still have romantic feelings for Gil Grissom, she was pretty sure she understood how things were going to work around here. Things were better with them now. He was her friend, her mentor, her boss. They had a mutual respect. They also had a lot of things left unsaid between them, but that was how it was always going to be, and that was okay. Sara felt like she had come to terms with the fact that they just weren't meant to be. It was disappointing, but she understood. She felt like she had a very good understanding of the situation, in fact. But that was until Nicky was kidnapped, and everything changed.

* * *

  
 _A few weeks earlier_

It was the kind of day when all he wanted to do was go home and drink some Scotch, and that was what Gil Grissom was about to do. Just a few hours earlier, he watched as a very mentally disturbed man nearly killed Sara Sidle. Yes, there was going to be some Scotch involved in this day.

There was a knock on his door. _What now?_ He thought bitterly.

Before he could say "Come in," Jim Brass came blowing through his office, a very smug look on his face.

"Oh, God, what is it now, Jim? I sent everyone home, and that's where I'm about to go myself."

"Gil, you're a dumbass. You are a dumb son of a bitch. I don't think people tell you that enough, so I've taken it upon myself to tell you."

Grissom stared at Jim Brass for an uncomfortably long time.

"You know what I just heard? I heard you took Sofia out for dinner. Can you be any more of a dumbass then that?"

"Jim, that was months ago. And I'm pretty sure I wouldn't discuss that with you anyway."

Jim's face softened, and he had a sudden feeling of sympathy for his friend.

"I heard what happened to Sara today, too. Come on, come to Joe's with me. You look like you need a drink or five."

Grissom was too tired to protest, so he let Jim take him to his favorite watering hole. He knew there was no chance for sleep any time soon, anyway, and he almost welcomed the opportunity to talk to his old friend over a glass of good Scotch.

After they ordered and had their first taste of the drinks, Jim said, "I have to know - have you seen Sofia again after going to dinner with her?"

Gil sighed somewhat impatiently. He wasn't used to defending his actions to anyone.

"Jim, look, she's a part of my team and she was concerned about her job. I took her to dinner because she needed someone to talk to. And, no, I have not seen her socially since then. And by the way, how does that make me a dumbass?"

Jim looked at him thoughtfully.

"How did you feel when that nutcase had that whatever it was, the sharp thing, on Sara's neck? How did it make you feel to see Sara in such a vulnerable position? What was it like to almost see her murdered, and you couldn't do anything about it but stand there and watch?"

"Jesus, Jim! I didn't know you had such a flair for the dramatics!"

They both sipped their Scotch, thinking.

"Well? How did it feel?" Jim asked, refusing to give up on the conversation.

"It felt ridiculously awful. It felt like I was watching my own death take place. He really could have killed her, Jim. She's a strong girl and she would have taken him down if she could, and eventually she did. But he could have killed her. He could have...taken her away from me."

Jim started at him, nearly speechless.

"Wow. And you're not even drunk yet. I thought we'd have to drink 2 or 3 bottles before you said something like that."

"I'm just tired of it, Jim. I'm tired of this dance Sara and I have been doing together for so many years now, and I know you understand. I know you were there when I went on my diatribe with Dr. Lurie. You're not an idiot, you knew what I was talking about."

Jim nodded.

"Yes, of course I knew. I knew since you brought her to Vegas. Everyone else around here may be clueless when it comes to you, but I never have been. So when I heard about you and Sofia, I just didn't understand."

Gil thought about Sofia. She was attractive and intelligent. She was an excellent CSI. And she made good company. But he knew his feelings for her would never be close to what he felt for Sara.

He also remembered the conversation he had with Greg a few months ago. They were talking about being open-minded, and Greg asked Gil what he liked, what got his juices flowing. Gil surprised himself by saying, "Someone who doesn't judge me." And the only person he was thinking of at the time was Sara. While she may have been frustrated with him at times, he felt like she never judged him. And that was more of a turn on then anything else could ever be.

"I would definitely be lying if I said I didn't...consider...Sofia. She's not as complicated as Sara. It would be easier, I suppose. But that was only a fleeting thought, Jim. When it comes down to it, it's either Sara or nobody else at all."

They sat back and drank silently for a few minutes, contemplating this interesting confession Gil Grissom finally made. It was a big step for him, and both of them knew that. The question was, what was next?

"I wanted to ask you, what happened with Sara and Catherine and Ecklie? What was all that about?"

"Oh, it was ugly. Sara said some things to Catherine, and then she went off on Ecklie. But ultimately, I think it worked out for the best. I think she said a lot of the things she'd been meaning to say, she got suspended for a few days and now everything's pretty much back to normal. Well, as normal as they can be as long as the team's split up."

"Didn't you go to her apartment or something after that went down? What did she say about it?"

Going to her apartment had not really been a split second decision. He'd been wanting to talk to her for a long time about things, especially after that day in his office when he completely failed her. She essentially told him she moved to Vegas to be with him, and he couldn't even tell her that's why he asked her to come to Vegas in the first place. But when he found out Ecklie wanted to fire her, he knew he needed to talk to her.

He was also curious what instigated this confrontation after it seemed she'd been trying so hard to get it together over the past couple of months. He admired how close she and Greg seemed to be getting. He was a little jealous, too, but he'd never admit that. Besides admiration, he was impressed how good of a mentor she was. Greg was a smart man, but he needed help Gil wasn't able to give him. So Sara picked up where he left off, and it worked nicely. Greg was a fantastic addition to their team, especially with Sara's help. It seemed this relationship both let them thrive. So the confrontation was a surprise to him.

So he went to her apartment seeking answers, and he finally got them. And when she confided in him the things she'd been hiding for so long, he felt an almost instant kinship with her. Not because he knew what it was like to see his father murdered, but he DID know what it was like to lose his father at such a young age. Later, after she cried and he held her hand to comfort her, he told her about his father. How one day he was watching TV while his father was in the same room, snoozing. But when his mother came in to bring him a drink, she couldn't wake him up. She tried and she tried, but she just couldn't wake him up.

"I was 9 years old," Gil had told Sara. "I didn't understand. Nobody told me why he died. Nobody came by to investigate. There wasn't even an autopsy."

"Is that why..." Sara started to say, then stopped.

"Yes. That's why I do this. People deserve answers."

Now, to Jim, he said, "Oh, well, actually I don't really feel comfortable telling you that. But she told me a lot of things. And it explained everything."

"Really? Did it explain why you've never pursued a relationship with the woman?"

Gil shook his head and downed more Scotch.

"It could hurt my career. You know that as well as I do."

"Fuck your career, Gil. You've had your career your whole life. When have you ever been in love? And when will you get the chance again? Gil, Sara's not exactly all that young anymore. She's not going to wait on your old ass forever."

"I know. I know. Seeing her today, seeing her try to fight off that crazy asshole...I need her, Jim. I just do."

He sighed, and took another long drink of Scotch.

Jim chuckled. He patted Gil on the back and said, "It's about damn time, Gil. Welcome to the real world."

The only problem was, he had no idea what to do about this problem. He didn't know how he would ever go about asking Sara Sidle on a date. How did people even do that? Did people even go on dates anymore?

He had no idea what to do. But then Nicky was kidnapped, and everything changed.


	14. It Just Has to be Like This

**A/N - So yeah, I have them getting together after Grave Danger, groan, I know, so original. I always thought they got together for the first time late in season 6, but watching that scene from Bite Me definitely changed my mind. You can't really deny there's something going on there.**

 **So anyway, here it is, I like it and I hope you do as well. Thanks as always to GSFanatic and all the discussions we had about their moment of togetherness. Also, this chapter's a little more on the adult side then the rest. I didn't think it needed to be changed to M, but if you disagree, let me know.  
**

It wasn't a simple twist of fate that brought them together. It wasn't just the fact that Grissom was getting older and ready to slow down and not be so career focused anymore. It wasn't just how everyone took notice of how much more...serene...Sara had been lately. It wasn't even Gil and Sara's mutual respect and growing friendship that developed during her fifth year in Vegas that brought them together. It was more then that. And it was more then watching their friend and colleague nearly take his own life, although, begrudgingly they might admit that it did have perhaps something to do with it. But the simple truth was, it would have happened whether Nicky had been kidnapped or not. It was simply a matter of time.

At the nursery, Grissom, Sara, Ecklie and Greg watched as the ambulance took Nicky away. Grissom said, "I want my guys back." Ecklie only nodded. They all found their vehicles and took off for the hospital. First, they'd find out how Nicky was doing, then they'd go home and sleep off their horrible night. What neither Grissom nor Sara had been counting on was the fact they wouldn't be doing it alone.

Catherine and Warrick were already in the waiting room and they filled their colleagues in on what they already found out: basically, Nicky would be okay. He had several hundred ant bites and he was definitely still in shock, but he'd really only need to spend a few days at the hospital. They all sighed with relief.

The team stuck around for a while, waiting for any kind of news the doctor could give them. In all honesty, none of them were ready to be alone yet. They had such a roller coaster of an evening and nobody wanted to get off the ride.

And yet, there was something else going on, something unseen by most of the people in the waiting room that night. Gil Grissom and Sara Sidle could not stop looking at each other. Nicky was the closest person Grissom had to a son, and the only person Sara could think of as a best friend. Seeing him in that coffin, watching the ants slowly attack him from every corner...something changed in both of them. Suddenly, they found any excuse to touch, which was strange for 2 people who had serious rules about comfort bubbles. An understanding was developing between the two of them without one word spoken. Something was going to happen, and neither of them wanted to wait any longer.

The doctor came by again to tell them Nicky was stable.

"I know you all want to see him right now, but he needs a few hours to sleep it off. You can come back tomorrow during visiting hours to see him, but tonight is not good."

They all nodded. Catherine and Warrick decided to stay at the hospital until visiting hours started. Sara admired them for sticking it out like that, but once she knew Nicky was going to be okay, her mind went back to the same thoughts she'd been having for the last 2 hours.

"Well, I think I'm going to head out," she said, avoiding Grissom's eyes. "Grissom, can you give me a ride back to the lab?"

"Of course," he said quickly, so fast it almost sounded like he said, "A horse!"

"Oh, Griss, can you give me a ride, too?" Greg asked innocently.

Grissom and Sara glanced at each other, eyebrows both raised. It wasn't like they could leave Greg without a way back...could they?

"Yes, Greg, that's fine."

As usual, all Greg wanted to was talk the entire way back. He wanted to talk about Nicky, of course, and pretty much everything that happened that night.

"Sara, it was so awesome how you figured out which nursery it was! We could have very well gone to the wrong one and well, who knows what could have happened to Nicky? Oh, and that Kelly Gordon, she was a little nuts, wasn't she? Oh, man, I can't believe-"

"Greg." Grissom said loudly. "Greg, please, please, be quiet. It's been a long night, and I think I'm getting a migraine. We'll talk about it tomorrow, okay? Please?"

Greg nodded. Sara knew two things: that Grissom felt bad for talking to Greg like that, and he also certainly didn't have a migraine. She didn't know exactly how she knew that, but she just did.

When they finally made it back to the lab, Greg bounded out of the car. When he looked back and saw Grissom and Sara still sitting in the car, he came back to the car and said, "Are you guys coming or what?"

"We'll be there, Greg," Sara said, trying to mask her impatience. "I just need to talk to Griss about something, okay?"

Greg nodded and bounded away, this time not looking back. Sara knew they looked horribly suspicious, but by that point, neither of them seemed to care.

Grissom turned to look at Sara. Even in the darkness, Sara could see it was a look that had a perfect balance of nerves and lust.

 _Oh, god,_ she thought to herself. _If this is not what I think it is, then I've never been right about anything in my whole life._

"Do you want to get some coffee or something?" He asked her.

"Don't you have to do some paperwork or something? What about Greg?"

"Sara...do you want to get some coffee?" He was almost pleading with her.

"Yes. I-I have coffee at my house. It's good. Let's go there."

"Perfect," he said, and he started the car.

Literally minutes later, they were in front of her house. She had no idea how they got there so fast, and she was far beyond caring. Especially when he stopped the car, looked at her, took her face in his hands and kissed her.

It had been a kiss nearly 10 years in the making, and it was worth waiting every second for. His kiss was soft yet aggressive, forceful yet sensual. His tongue was warm in her mouth, and made every nerve ending in her body stand up and cheer.

"Sara...I'm sorry. Should I be sorry?"

"No. No, you definitely should not be sorry for that," she said breathlessly.

"Good, because I'm not really sorry. Can we go inside?" He asked, never taking his eyes off her.

"Um, my house? Yes, let's go inside my house."

They both got out of the car. He took her hand and she led him to the front door, which she had multitudes of problems opening.

"Wait," he said, and kissed her again. He put his arms around her waist and held her close to him. She moaned, and then immediately was embarrassed. Until he smiled and kissed her with more force, pulling her closer to him, so hard against her.

"Let me-let me open the door...I have a bed...it's nice..." She said in between kisses.

Sara finally managed to get the door open. She led Gil to her bedroom, where she was suddenly thankful her bed was made.

They both sort of fell onto the bed, kissing furiously. Hands were kept to themselves for this portion of the kissing.

"Do we need to talk about this?" Grissom asked, even though it was abundantly clear that talking was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Yes. Later. Not now."

And so it happened. Grissom and Sara came together in a way both of them always fantasized about and yet neither of them had the courage to initiate.

For both of them, the act was about more than primal lust coming together in an explosion of senses. For Grissom, as a man, this was a very pleasurable thing for him, of course. He had been attracted to Sara since the first day they met. She was a beautiful woman, and he was aroused by that. But there was something else he was also dealing with, a very new feeling that he wasn't quite sure how to handle - he was so in love with her he could barely stand it. Being inside of her, feeling her move to his rhythm, listening to her moan with his hands on her body...it was incredible. It was absolutely the most incredible thing he had ever experienced. Until this moment, he had no idea what love was. And he never wanted to not know again.

For Sara, it was just proof. It was proof that her feelings for him weren't in vain. It was proof that her "puppy dog crush" had been more then that. It was actually kind of a victory for her, if she really wanted to be honest to herself about it. She'd been the valedictorian of her class in high school, she'd been to college at Harvard, she had an advanced physics degree from Berkeley, she was constantly proving her worth as a CSI...but making love to Gil Grissom was the one thing she was most proud of. And the one thing, strangely enough, she was dying to tell her mother about.

When it was over, and it was not over quickly, they lay side by side, giggling and kissing and enjoying the post-coital bliss.

"So...we should definitely talk now, right?" Sara said, kissing his ear.

Grissom looked at her and smiled.

"Do we really have to?" He asked. And then his hand slipped up her leg, and she moaned.

"I don't think so. I think I understand."

He nodded, and then it happened again. And then 2 more times in the next couple of hours. Sara didn't give a shit if it was Viagra or what, whatever it was certainly was working.

When neither of them could barely move, they both fell into a restful slumber.

Before Sara drifted off to sleep, she thought how nice it was to not have to talk about it. For one thing, she knew Grissom liked to talk about his emotions like he liked talking to child molesters: not at all. And she was okay with that. She figured that the events of the past couple of months had awakened something inside of him, and he finally came to his senses. If she didn't know him any better, she'd be a little wary of letting herself get emotionally involved in what was happening here. But she knew him. He didn't sleep with her because he had an erection and he needed to do something about it. He made love to her because if he didn't, they would both go crazy. Things were going to be different now, they were going to be better. Maybe not perfect, but she was willing to accept that.

They both woke up a few hours later with only one thing on their mind. This time, Grissom pinned her wrists down and entered her with an interesting aggressiveness that turned her on in a way she never experienced. And as she came again and again, she thought to herself, _it doesn't have to be perfect, it just has to be like this._


	15. Unconditional

**A/N - I'm kind of fond of this chapter, actually, and I hope you will be too. I took some inspiration from my mom and grandmother, because that's what I do.**

 _2007_

Laura Sidle was ready to die, but Sara wasn't ready to let her.

Of course, there wasn't much Sara could do about it. She obviously didn't want her mother to suffer any more then she had to. But for purely selfish reasons, she wasn't ready for this connection to her mother to be severed yet. There was something missing her whole adult life, and she was just now discovering what it was: the love of her mother. It was becoming so much important to her then she realized it could ever be, and now she was about to lose it.

Sara decided she couldn't let her mother go without telling her this, so she sat next to Laura's bed and held her hand. Laura didn't open her eyes, but Sara knew she was listening. That was one of her favorite tricks.

"Mother-um, Mom, I have to say this before you decide to leave me. I'm sorry I stopped writing you in prison. I'm sorry I never came to visit. I'm sorry I never told anyone about you. And the shame of it is, it wasn't because I was ashamed of you. It was because I would have done the same thing, and I found that hard to deal with. I would have killed a man I loved just so he wouldn't touch me or my kids anymore. If there is a murder gene, I have it, and that really made me question everything I've ever believed in. And I'm sorry-"

"Shut up," came out of Laura Sidle's tired lips. "Sara, just shut up."

Sara was bewildered by this request.

"Mom, I was trying-"

Laura spoke slowly and carefully, with a lot of difficulty. But it was something she, too, felt like she had to say.

"You don't have to explain, sweetie. Because I've known that all along. And you know what the most important thing is? It doesn't matter. Because even when you didn't call or write or visit, you were still in my heart. I loved you then and I love you now, Sara, because you are my daughter. Unconditional love is just that, and I want you to understand that because I don't think you do. Unconditional love has no conditions. It just is.

"And it's not even just between a mother and a daughter, but between a man and a woman. Your father had conditions, and that is one of the things I regret. I have never loved a man that loved me unconditionally. If nothing else, I want that for you because you deserve it."

Sara sighed. She didn't want to think about what her mother was saying because then she'd have to think about her relationship with Gil Grissom, and how unbelievably conditional it seemed to be.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry I wasted all this time-"

"Shh, not wasted. You didn't waste anything. Even if you struggled to get where you are today-through foster care, high school, Harvard, Berkeley, law enforcement, and, well, to get that man of yours...you had to pay your dues. We all have to pay our dues, Sara. And you have. I'm sorry it had to happen like this, but if you want to do something for me, don't regret what you did. You did what you had to do, and that's not something to be ashamed of, okay? Don't regret anything. Do that for me."

Sara had to know. "Since when you have been all about this unconditional love thing?"

"Since I met you," Laura said, and then she closed her eyes. Sara was silent as she held her mother's hand and watched her drift back to sleep. Her mother just gave her the most valuable advice anyone had ever given her, and she couldn't be more grateful.

Later, she told Robbie about the conversation. He nodded and said, "Good. I'm glad you two finally talked without bitterness. I was hoping that could happen before, well...you couldn't talk about it anymore."

They were in the kitchen, having some coffee and talking about funeral arrangements. It wasn't the conversation either of them wanted to be having, but it seemed like Laura had just given up. The brain tumor won, and Laura lost. She knew that, and she was ready to go.

"When did you have that conversation with her? I mean, I guess, when did you turn things around? I've never seen you so, you know, happy and stuff," Sara said, smiling at her brother.

"Part of it was going to AA and doing that whole 12 step thing. But what motivated getting into AA in the first place was seeing Mom for the first time in, what, almost 20 years? She wrote me a letter shortly after she got out of prison. I reluctantly came to visit her here in California, and when she decided to move to Florida, I thought, 'What the hell? Why not?'

"When I told her I was going to Florida too, she told me, 'You can come to Florida, but do it to better yourself. I spent 25 years in a place where people always wanted to blame someone else for their wrongdoings. Stop blaming other people and take a good look at yourself.' And for some reason that really stuck with me. As soon as I moved to Miami I quit all the crap I was doing and, well, stopped blaming everyone else. It was nice."

"Well, I'm happy for you. And I'm glad I'm getting this chance to spend so much time with you."

They grinned at each other and then refocused on the task at hand. For such a grim task, Sara felt more hopeful then she had in a long time.

* * *

Laura Sidle died just a few days later. Robbie and Sara tried to be by her side, at least one or the other, almost 24 hours a day. It was only when the two of them decided they needed to go out for coffee that Laura finally drifted away. When they left Starbucks and went back to the house, Nurse Nancy told them the news. Sara looked down at her Toffee Nut Latte, wondering if that one cup of coffee was really worth not being there when her mother took her last breath. Nurse Nancy told them later, "She wasn't going to die with you two staring at her. She was only going to go if neither of you were here. Isn't that the strangest thing?"

Robbie and Sara looked at each other, clearly wondering what they should feel. Relief, because it was what Laura wanted? Sadness, because she was gone? Happiness because they finally allowed themselves to get to know her in the way they always wanted? They sank into each other, giving into all of those emotions, plus every other emotion. Nancy left to attend to cleaning Laura up before the ambulance arrived to take Laura away, while Robbie and Sara held each other and cried.

The funeral was 3 days later, at the graveyard Laura told them she always wanted to be buried in. It was an overcast day and the preacher seemed to rush the ceremony ever so slightly due to the impending rain. Sara held on fiercely and gratefully to a stoic Grissom, who flew in that day to be with her at the funeral. Other than Nancy, Robbie, Robbie's girlfriend Stacy, Sara, Grissom and Barbara, nobody else showed up at the funeral. Laura Sidle simply didn't know anybody else.

After the preacher rushed through the usual blatherings, he said, "Sara, you wanted to say a little something?"

Sara nodded. She knew it was trite, but she wanted to say something, anything, to memorialize her mother in a way that she deserved. So she got up, Grissom by her side, rubbing her back as she talked, and gave her little speech.

"Laura Sidle made mistakes and society made her pay for them. She fell in love with the wrong man, and he made her pay for that. Her children spent a chunk of their childhood in foster care and a bigger chunk of their adulthood in therapy, and they made her pay for that. Laura Sidle paid her dues, and she would tell anyone that she didn't regret it. Her mistakes were her own and she did what she had to do. Her only real mistake was falling in love, and who hasn't done that? My mother taught me about unconditional love. She taught me that if you love someone, you love everything about them, no conditions. She also taught me that if you want something, you fight for it. She stopped fighting in the end, but she told me to never stop. And if I never learn anything else in my life, at least I learned that."

Robbie smiled and clapped the loudest. Stacy, Barbara and Nancy gave a round of polite applause. Grissom kissed her softly when they sat back down, but didn't say anything. He had been quiet most of the day, which unnerved her since it had been nearly 3 months since they were last in each other's arms.

They sat there a long time, Sara staring at her mother's coffin and Gil staring at the ground. Eventually everyone else left, and they still sat there in silence.

"So did you check into your hotel yet? I thought we could go there for a little while and then have a nice dinner," Sara said finally. She took his hand, which was warm and soft. "I've missed you so much, Griss. So very much."

"I missed you too," he said, kissing her forehead. "But, um, I didn't get a hotel. In fact, I have a flight to catch in a couple of hours. Maybe we could grab something to eat, but I've got to get to the airport, well, pretty soon."

Sara couldn't believe what she was hearing. She must not have heard it right.

"What? Grissom, I need you. I need you to be here with me right now. You can't leave. You just...can't. I mean, really, how can you?"

He looked away from her. He had to.

"I'm sorry, honey. Catherine's on vacation for a few days and I have to get back to the lab. There's so many things going on there right now and I have to be there-" He stopped when he saw the look on Sara's face.

"I just...I can't believe it. I thought you'd at least be here until tomorrow. I wanted to go to your hotel, make love to you, eat dinner with you, sleep in your arms. I need that, Grissom. Do you understand? I NEED you to be here for me right now."

"I can't. I'm sorry. I have responsibilities. You knew that when we started this, Sara. You've known that all along. That's why I was so hesitant to start this in the first place."

Sara felt like the wind had been knocked out of her.

"First of all, 'hesitant'? You were not hesitant or fucking disinclined or uneager or whatever other shitty word you found in your fucking thesaurus," Sara said. She knew she was mad; she only cussed like a sailor when she was mad. "You just flat out didn't want it. What moved you, Griss? Did the thought of losing Nick, your best CSI, make you so lonely you needed to take it out on me? Is that what fucking happened?" She knew that wasn't the case. She knew she'd regret it later. But she needed him, and she didn't understand why he didn't want to be there. It was breaking her heart.

Before she could keep spouting obscenities all day long, making her mother proud, Grissom grabbed her hand and pulled her close to him. She didn't try to fight it. The truth was it was the closest she'd physically been to anybody since they'd been together last. And she wanted that.

"Sara, I know you need me. But there are things I have to do. You'll be back in, what, a week or two? I will make it up to you then, okay? I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. But for now? I can't. There are things I need to do. I'm sorry."

He let her go. She tried not to completely lose her cool and cry. He'd seen her cry too many times. Not this time.

"It may be longer then a week or two," she said softly, refusing to look at him.

"What do you mean? Why would you want to stay longer then that? You only have a week or two left of leave."

"Yeah, Grissom, I know that. I may just stay here. I've been talking to Martin and I think I may get my job back here. I think it would be good for me."

"Sara...the lab needs you. You're the best CSI we've got," he said, a silent pleading in his voice, a tinge of desperation.

And Sara was hurtled back 5 years to when she first presented him with her leave of absence. Just like back then he didn't say what both of them wanted him to say: _I need you. Fuck the lab, I need you, god damn it!_

"It sucks, doesn't it? To need something and not get it."

They looked at each other, pain permeating the atmosphere around them. They knew this place. They were comfortable in this place. It was the other part, the being together part, that was hard.

Sara wanted to be the first to walk away, but he surprised her. He walked away. And he didn't look back.

* * *

Barbara told Sara she could stay in the house for as long as she needed to, which she was quite grateful for once she started looking at prices of San Francisco condos. Robbie was finishing things up at his job and was planning on moving back to Miami when things were settled.

"When are you going back to Vegas?" Robbie asked her 2 days after the funeral.

"I don't know. Not soon, I don't think. I may stay here for a while. I think it may be an interesting new start for me."

Robbie looked at his sister, studying her. She had to look away.

"Why?" He asked simply.

"I like it here. We grew up here, remember? It's a nice city."

"Fuck the city. Why would you want to stay here? You want to stay in the city where you watched your mother kill your father? You want to stay in the city where you then watched your mother die a slow, painful death? You want to leave a city where you have a great job and a man who loves you? Sara, do you think Mom would have wanted you to do that?"

She did not want to answer that question. She didn't want to answer any of those questions. And as if on cue, her cell phone vibrated again for the twelfth time that day.

"Who is that? Is that Grissom again? Sara, the man is in charge of one of the busiest labs in the country. He had to leave, get over it! At least he feels bad about it!"

Sara knew he did. She listened to his eight voicemails, all saying something to the effect of, "I'm sorry I walked away. I love you. Come back home." But none of them said WHY he loved her. None of them said what he would do to change the way he loved her. None of them offered unconditional love. And she was going to stay in California until they did.

"Robbie, I love you, but stay out of it. I'm a big girl; I know what I'm doing."

He snorted. "Yeah, right. You need tough love, Sara. Always have. Who's going to give it to you if your brother can't?"

She smiled, and they talked about it for a while, but she knew she was doing the right thing. She couldn't go back to Las Vegas. Things were different now, and she had no idea how things could ever go back to being the way they were. Not for the first time, she wondered if love could ever be enough.

Her cell phone vibrated again. She looked down to roll her eyes at Grissom's number, but this time it wasn't Grissom.

"Chris?" She asked, somewhat nervously.

"Hey, Sara," came his relaxed, sympathetic voice. "I read about your mom in the paper, and wow, I had no idea that's why you were in California."

Sara thought about the obituary she and Robbie wrote for the paper, giving a brief synopsis of Laura's life and death.

"Yeah...it's been a tough couple of months," she said, not sure where this was going.

"I just wanted to say, if you need somebody, you can always call me. I'm here for you, Sara. Will you remember that for me?"

"Yes, of course. Thank you so much, I appreciate that." And she did. And she was bitter with the irony of a near stranger she dated for 5 minutes 7 years ago wanted to be there for her when her own boyfriend, or lover or significant other or whatever you wanted to call Grissom, couldn't be. She bit her lip in frustration.

Later, she went outside to watch the rain pour down from the black sky. It was a beautiful summer rain storm, and she wanted to run out and dance in it. She wanted the water to purify her, to make her soul new again. But she wasn't sure if she wanted a soul if the soul came without Gil Grissom. It was a choice she was going to have to make, and she was not looking forward to it.


	16. Not Ready to Say Goodbye

**A/N - Long, but worth it. Enjoy, or I will cry.**

 _Vegas, year 6_

Sara found herself starting her sixth year in Vegas doing something she had all but given up on ever doing: dating Gil Grissom.

Unfortunately, dating was all it was, at least for the first couple months after their initial, well, coupling. She didn't think it was going to be all sunshine and roses, but she didn't know it was going to be like this. She didn't really like who she was when she was with him. Her past was not full of healthy relationships, and she wanted this one to be different, but instead it was turning out to be the same. It seemed like she was always pushing for more-more time together, more talking, more commitment, more anything. And that was not who she wanted to be. That's not who she was. But with Gil, she seemed to be taking on the role of the stereotypical female, and it was driving both of them crazy.

It wasn't like she didn't know Grissom's feelings for her. Just because he didn't really tell her the things she always wanted to hear from him, that didn't mean he didn't feel them. And she tried to keep that in mind, she really did. But sometimes, after a few weeks of her trying to get him to be alone with her unsuccessfully, it turned out to be pretty hard to know how he felt.

"Sara, you know the only thing I want to do is have dinner with you, but there's so much I have to do here," he would inevitably say. "Ecklie's been on hassling me about the evaluations, Catherine wants to take a vacation, I have so much paperwork to do..." There would always be a reason.

Even when they were alone, she never had him all to herself. She always knew he had an unusual attachment to his job, but she never knew how extreme it was. He never seemed to let go. His job was his life, and she was trying to understand that. But she was also trying to carve a little place for herself in his world, and she didn't know why it had to be so hard.

They didn't even make love with any kind of frequency. When they did, it was satisfying and gratifying and wonderful and explosive, but those moments were few and far between.

"Babe," she said, on one of those rare nights they both had off. They were taking it easy at his townhouse, sitting on his leather sofa and watching _Casablanca_. His idea, of course.

"Do you ever think of maybe giving a little more responsibility to Catherine? I mean, she did a good job as supervisor on Swing, I'm sure she could help you out with some of your workload."

"Why would I want to do that?" He asked her, puzzled. She found herself thinking _, God, is he really that clueless?_

"Well, I don't know, it would be nice if you could loosen the reins sometimes, you know? Maybe give yourself some time to relax. Take some time to do other stuff every now and then. Leave it at the office and everything."

He grinned and gave her a slight kiss on the lips, which still sent butterflies scattering through her stomach. The man was a good kisser.

"Honey, I know it's tough. We can't show any affection at work, and then when you can get me away from work, I'm still stuck there. What can I say? Old habits are tough to break."

She tried hard not to frown. This was his answer? That was not exactly what she wanted to hear.

He paused _Casablanca_ and turned to her. He brought her closer so his arms were around her. She loved being in his arms. It was the most comfortable place she'd ever been.

"I don't say this nearly enough, but you are the most adorable creature I have ever known. I regret every second I wasted not being with you. I know I'm an old bastard with annoying habits, but I hope that you'll give me enough time to get my head out of my ass. Will you wait for me?"

Well, that was more emotion she'd gotten out of him since perhaps the beginning of time. She would obviously wait for him. She would wait for him until all her hair was gray and her teeth were falling out. Of course, she didn't tell him this.

"Of course," she said. "I didn't wait all this time just to give up in the first inning." She knew a baseball reference would delight him.

He smiled, and they spent the rest of the night holding hands and watching the rest of the movie. When it was over, he led her to the bedroom, where they spent the evening having one of those few and far between moments.

But barely a month later, he was again showing signs of contempt for his new companion. She didn't know what the hell was going on, but it made her want to push. It made her want to corner him, get his attention, handcuff him to the bed so at least she could have his full attention until he called Brass to bring the keys.

He showed his colors while they were working a crime scene together. It was the case of a woman found dead on a flight of stairs, covered in blood, suspicious circumstances oozing out of every room in the house.

They were processing the woman's bedroom, talking it out as they always did. Sara thought it would be hard to remain professional with him at work without wanting to stop everything and run her fingers through his hair or something, but instead she found it calming, this routine they had after 6 years of working together. It was business as usual, and she found comfort in the routine. And sometimes she even enjoyed work even more, knowing that at the end of day, she had what she had craved for so many years. Even if he was...reluctant.

Looking at the bedroom, they figured the woman and her husband weren't sleeping in the same room together. Grissom found it strange.

"That's odd," he said, looking at the bedroom. "A man and woman who don't share a bedroom arrange to have a night alone, send their daughter to a relative, go out to dinner, have drinks by the pool, but they sleep in separate bedrooms."

"Maybe one of them snored or had insomnia or liked to work late at night," Sara said, feeling some kind of weird sympathy for the woman.

"Or maybe they were suffocating each other and he couldn't breathe," Grissom said, avoiding her eyes.

Her heart sank. Maybe if he hadn't looked away, she could think he was just talking about the case, and not them. Sometimes, when he wanted to be, Grissom could be one cruel man. _If he doesn't want to be with me, why doesn't he just fucking say something instead of hiding behind his job?  
_  
She looked through some drawers, looking for anything that would help with the case. She found some lubricant in the drawer, which she thought was interesting.

"Sexual lubricant. It's half empty. Sticky. You know, you don't have to sleep in the same bed together to have sex or… to have romance."

In other words, hello, we can be together without suffocating each other to death. She looked at him, hoping he'd understand her, hoping he'd take some comfort in that.

He looked at her questioningly, but that seemed to be the end of their "Lets sort of talk about our relationship at a crime scene" one act play.

That same day in the lab, she and Catherine discussed the case. Catherine mentioned in passing, "Lovers and co-workers, that never works." Sara wanted to laugh at the irony of it all, but she managed to hold back.

When the shift was over, she walked into his office and closed the door. They tried to never talk about anything personal at work, but this had been nagging at her all day, and she wanted an answer.

He looked up from his paperwork when she came bursting in, and smiled when he saw it was her. He always did that; it was something she found completely endearing. But when he saw the look on her face, it instantly turned into a frown.

"Griss, seriously, if you don't want to be in this relationship, I totally understand. You have a lot of responsibility, and I always seem to get in the way of that. I don't want to smother you, I sincerely don't. I'm not that girl, you have to know that."

Grissom looked overwhelmed. As usual, he had that look on his face that meant he had no idea what she was talking about now. But she knew that look. She received that look too many times over the years to think for one second he didn't know what she was trying to say.

He sighed. She hated it when she acted like such a girl. But she was, after all, a woman, and she did have basic needs. It was a line she constantly dared to cross, and it was getting very old.

"Of course I want to be in this relationship. Of course I want to be with you. And I'm sorry about earlier today, I just...I just need some space. It's been a long time since I've been involved with anyone, and Sara, god damnit, I just don't really know how, okay? I said give me time, and that's what I meant. I know you need more, but I just can't give it right now. But I promise you, and I don't break my promises...I will."

She wanted to believe him, she really did. But over and over again, it would happen. She would get her expectations up, and he would disappoint her. It was easier, Sara would think sometimes, when they weren't dating. Because back then, she had no idea what his kiss felt like. She had no idea how it felt to be in his arms, feeling like nothing could ever hurt her again. They couldn't go back, but neither could they go forward. It was the most frustrating thing she'd ever experienced, and she had experienced a lot in her life.

So, she let go. She stopped bugging him. No more storming into his office, no relationship chats, no pestering him about anything. She hated the cliché, but she wanted the ball to be in his court now.

And for a while, it seemed to work. It seemed he even appreciated the distance, which she came to resent just the slightest bit. Sometimes she even liked to tease him, intrigue him, make him wonder what the hell it was that she was thinking.

They came across the case of a woman who kept a certain kind of man in her life, one that wanted to be a lover but now was only a bodyguard. It seemed that whenever this woman called him, someone got shot.

Grissom went on a diatribe about how it was like thermite, which Sara barely listened to.

"When you combine two seemingly harmless elements-aluminum and rust-press them together, add heat, it creates an explosion so hot it'll burn through steel. Powerful but uncontrollable. It burns and burns until it burns itself out, finally consuming both elements," he said, looking quite proud of himself.

Sara thought it was the perfect metaphor for their relationship.

"I guess some people shouldn't be together," she said, avoiding his eyes. She could feel him staring at her, but she didn't look back.

A few days later, they were working on the case of a famous showgirl. When they went into get some test results from Hodges, he appeared to be doing something like...well; it looked like he was trying to cover his gray hairs with a marker.

Sara smiled when she noticed his obvious embarrassment, and said, "Hodges, don't you know grey hair can be very attractive?" This time, she took satisfaction in the confused but intrigued look on Grissom's face.

Despite the teasing, she was still getting tired of this game they were playing. All she wanted was to spend time with this man that she was in love with. And while she assured herself repeatedly, she thought it might be nice if he could declare his love for her every now and then. Nearly a year of dating, and he had yet to say it, not even once. There was love between them; she knew that in her heart. It was in the way he looked at her right before he kissed her, like he was amazed that he was allowed to do that. It was in the way they made love, like there was something he had to prove to her. But sometimes, just sometimes, she wanted desperately for him to say it, just once, so she could confirm it in her heart

* * *

Gil Grissom loved Sara Sidle. He had for a long, long time. And now that she was in his life as more than a coworker, an employee, as the woman he mentored for so long...he didn't exactly know what to do with her. He wanted to spend time with her. It was sometimes all he ever thought about. As he filled out more and more paperwork or did some other ridiculous thing Ecklie wanted that week, he thought about how instead of the pen he was holding, he wanted to be holding her.

She was getting antsy. He could tell. He could tell she didn't know quite what to do about the situation. And it broke his heart to see her like that, when he knew that both of them waited for this to happen for so long and now that it had, it was one unending disappointment.

He was just dumb, that's all it was. He was terrified of this love that existed between them. Sometimes, he was terrified of her and the way she made him feel. It was like he couldn't bring himself to let his walls down, because if he did...she would be a part of him. He had never known love like that before. Nobody in his life ever meant so much to him. It was terrifying.

When they had been together nearly a year, she started withdrawing a little. He didn't know what to do to bring her back, and what was worse, he knew it was his entire fault. But what exactly did Sara want from him? Couldn't she see how much she meant to him? Couldn't she just look in his eyes and know, for crying out loud? _What was it with her and wanting to actually hear the words and see the actions all the time?_ He wondered. He wondered how she could expect him to change so quickly when he'd been this way his entire life. He almost resented her from wanting so much from him, and then he would just get mad at himself. She deserved it. She deserved everything he had, and he was too much of a bastard to give it to her. From the very first day he met this incredible woman, he wanted to give her everything. Instead, he gave her little nuggets, portioned out to his discretion.

Anthony Caprice changed everything, well, at least for a while. Grissom and Sara were on the strange case of a young man that was killed, and he seemed to be mixed up with a company that, through an elaborate set up with many characters, made dreams come true. When talking about the case, the subject of fantasies came up more than once. And Grissom couldn't help but think of what he said when Greg asked him what he liked, and he told Greg, "Somebody who doesn't judge me." Sara was his fantasy. He couldn't deny that, not to anyone, not to himself. And Anthony Caprice knew that from the second he met Gil Grissom.

Caprice was setting up some kind of Japanese Geisha fantasy for some businessmen when Sara and Gil came to talk to him. From their conversation, they figured out that he was in the business of fantasies. Anthony said, "These scenarios take weeks to craft. I learn everything about my client's wants and his desires, all without him even knowing."

In spite of himself, Grissom casted a quick look at Sara, who pretended not to notice. He wondered how it was possible for Caprice to know these things, but it soon became clear to him that this Caprice guy wasn't like most people Grissom came into contact with. He paid attention to details. He knew things about most people that they didn't know about themselves.

Caprice continued. "Secret longings, they have a kind of electricity. They're often much more visible than we would want them to be." He gave the pair of them a long, hard look.

 _How could he know what I've tried so hard to disguise from even myself,_ Grissom wondered. He didn't think for a second Caprice didn't know what was happening between him and Sara. It was unnerving. Grissom wasn't used to being unnerved, and he was standing with two people who were doing it at the same time.

They continued talking about the case. Before they walked out, Caprice told them, with a slight grin and a gleam in his eyes, "Oh. And may all your dreams come true." And he walked away.

Grissom thought about these words. His dreams did come true. He had his dream woman and what more could he ask for? He was a man in his fifties with a nice townhouse, a respectable name in a career he worked himself to the bone for, a pretty good amount of his earnings in the bank, and the woman he dreamed about for 10 years by his side. She was beautiful, intelligent, witty, and she loved him. Why wasn't he happier? Why was he resisting Sara? It all seemed to make sense to him at that moment.

When they made it to the car, he looked at Sara, who was looking over her notes, trying to connect the dots.

"Sara," he said. She looked up from her notes. And then he kissed her. A lot.

"I'm sorry I've been such a bastard," he said when they came up for air. "Do you want to come over for breakfast after shift? I'll make you some French toast."

She smiled, but it was a careful smile. He didn't blame her.

"Well, yeah. Of course. But...why now? You know what I mean?"

He knew what she meant.

"You're my fantasy. I have a lot of the things that I always pictured having, and you complete the picture. You are an amazing woman, and thank you so much for putting up with my crap for so long. I will make it up to you, I promise."

"Wow. Grissom, you know how I feel. You can read me like a book. I don't think I have to tell you that I feel the same way."

He kissed her again. Pulling back, he looked her in the eye and said the words he knew she needed to hear.

"I love you."

She smiled and said shyly, "I love you too. More then you will ever know."

They kissed again, and drove back to the lab. The admission of love seemed to be an aphrodisiac, and as they sat at the table, talking over the case with Nick, Greg and Catherine, they couldn't take their eyes off each other. Grissom was in the mood for something, and it wasn't French toast.

Catherine and Sara teased Greg about his birthday coming up and what fantasies he'd want fulfilled. Grissom added his 2 cents to the conversation, "I think fantasies are best kept private." He smiled at Sara, and she smiled back. He knew she was thinking about all the interesting fantasies they could fulfill after shift in just an hour or two, and was embarrassed at how attractive and, well, arousing it was to know she was thinking the same thing he was.

When they wrapped up the details of the case, and Greg threw out a subtle hint about a birthday breakfast, Catherine said, "Now, that is a fantasy." At long last, Catherine, Greg and Nick left the room. Sara and Grissom stayed behind, giving each other looks dripping with sexual tension. She gave him a little grin, and he looked at her, then at the table, then at her again. It was his way of saying, "Nobody but you knows what I'm thinking right now, but give me about an hour and I'll tell you all about it."

And an hour later, they found themselves in his townhouse, where the subject of fantasies was talked about—and acted out—for hours. Grissom never knew Sara had a thing for handcuffs. He made a mental note to thank Jim Brass someday.

Later, when she was lying in his arms, drifting to a blissfully satisfied sleep, he knew he turned a corner. He would be what Sara always thought he could be. But he also wondered how long he could be that person. It was a scary thought, and he tried to forget about it while he slept with his amazing lover. He did eventually sleep, but that thought constantly nagged him. Could he be what she thought he was? He had no idea.

A few weeks later, he was never more grateful for Sara then when Brass was shot in a hostage situation. Grissom had Brass' power of attorney, and he was in control of how far the doctors went to save his good friend's life. Brass was not doing well, but Grissom had hope. And when he didn't, Sara gave him hope. That was something he loved about her.

"He's a fighter, Griss," she would say. "He's seen worse then this. He'll make it through."

He knew she was right, and he didn't give up hope. He even tried to keep a positive, upbeat attitude with the case they were investigating during Jim's hospital stay, one of a man who apparently enjoyed wearing corsets and participating in Civil War reenactments. _Just about when you think you've seen it all_ , Gil thought.

It was Sara's suggestion to get Ellie, Jim's daughter, to come to the hospital. Gil called her but didn't expect her to show up. Everyone was surprised when she did make an appearance, even if it was just to cause chaos and make everyone question her motives.

Brass had some close calls when he was in the hospital, but he eventually came to and the doctors said he would have a full recovery. When Brass woke up, Gil was sitting next to him. He looked out the window, hoping Brass would see Ellie behind every cop in Las Vegas who showed up to see how he was doing. He did. He also saw Ellie leave as soon as she saw her father was okay. It was a bittersweet moment for Jim, and Grissom felt his friend's mixture of pain and relief.

Later, Sara was staying over at Grissom's townhouse, knowing he needed the company. He was pondering Jim's near-death experience, and talking about his own mortality while she was getting ready for bed in the bathroom.

"I don't know. Most people want to die in their sleep, I suppose. Never know that it's happening. Like a crime scene. Surprise, you're dead. I'd prefer to know in advance that I was going to die. I'd like to be diagnosed with cancer, actually. Have some time to prepare."

He sighed. Cancer scared him, but being without Sara scared him more.

"Go back to the rain forest one more time. Re-read _Moby Dick_. Possibly enter an international chess tournament."

Sara came out of the bathroom. Grissom again admired the legs on his girlfriend, barely covered by her robe.

"At least have enough time to say good-bye to the people I love," he said.

She kneeled down on the bed, and looked at him thoughtfully.

"I'm not ready to say good-bye," she said, smiling.

He smiled back, happy that she was in his bed, happy that he managed to get it together long enough to have her in his bed.

"You won't have to," he said, taking her hands and pulling her close to him. "You'll never have to."


	17. Pick One

**A/N - Only 3 more chapters left, y'all.**   
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_2007_

After a long, stressful, challenging shift, Gil returned to his office. He closed the door, drew the shades and closed his eyes. It used to be, Sara would come in his office, they'd talk about plans for breakfast or dinner, or she'd go home with him. If there was absolutely nobody nearby, he'd close the door and give her a kiss. That always seemed to make her happy.

Making Sara happy...now that was something he was beginning to see that he had no idea how to do. He thought they were happy together. She practically lived with him, they had a dog together, they sometimes spent 24 hours a day together. And then her mother had to write that letter, and now Sara was gone. Earlier in the day, he received a call from his old friend and colleague Martin Thornton.

"Gil, I'm not sure if you were aware of this or not, but Sara has asked me for her job back here. I told her to give me a few days to think about it because I wanted to ask you first. Because frankly, if you don't have a problem with it, I'd love to have her back on my team. She's an amazing CSI, as I'm sure you know."

An amazing CSI, yes. An amazing kisser, an amazing lover, an amazing pancake-maker, an amazing dog lover, an amazing poem writer, an amazing woman. She was all of those things, and it continued to amaze him every single day of the life they had together.

He told Martin he'd call him back in 24 hours. He needed to think. He needed to figure out where he'd gone wrong. She was essentially leaving him, not to mention the lab, and he needed to know what to do about it. He needed to know how to fix it.

He was a workaholic, it was true. The miniature killer really put him on the brink of burnout. When he watched as Ernie Dell pulled the trigger and, for the second time in 2 years, saw someone die in front of him, he thought the nightmare was over. But just as it was with Walter Gordon, he had nightmares about these men. He and Sara would sometimes take turns waking up from nightmares, a pool of sweat forming around them, huffing and puffing like they had just been in a foot race. Sara was haunted by memories of her childhood; Grissom was haunted by his present. They were an interesting pair.

And then another miniature showed up and it started all over again. He had to know. He had to catch this person. Sara didn't understand why he was so obsessed. When he started building his own miniature, she was annoyed. "You get enough of this miniature person at work," she had said. "Why do you have to let it get to you at home, too?"

He tried to explain, but could never find the words. It was comfortable. It was easy to focus on this serial killer. It was easy to wonder about what connected all the murders. When Hodges figured out that the one thing common at every scene was bleach, Grissom was almost jealous of the young lab tech. David Hodges was a pain in the ass, but he was an intelligent, motivated pain in the ass.

Not that being with Sara was hard, necessarily. He loved her. In bed, the feeling of her curled up next to him was the most incredible feeling he'd ever felt. After the song and dance they did for so many years, she never gave up on him. And when they were in bed together, he couldn't believe what a lucky man he was.

But sometimes it was just so... _hard._ Maintaining a relationship was not easy for him. He'd been in only one other serious relationship, right after college. Her name was Diane, and he loved her in the way only young people could: ignorantly, blindly, and dumbly. Of course she ended up cheating on him; it was only a matter of time. He then made the decision that he would not let women get in the way of his career. And it worked for a long time, until that one fateful day when he walked into the classroom and made the mistake of thinking Sara was the teaching assistant.

There was a knock on his office door. He opened his eyes, annoyed at the interruption. Catherine came in and sat down, not waiting for an invitation. Not that Catherine ever needed an invitation.

"So, how are things?" She asked in that annoying know-it-all way of hers.

"Fine, Catherine. Why don't you just go ahead and get to the point so we don't have to waste 30 minutes on small talk?" Ever since he dropped the bomb about Natalie trying to take away the only person he'd ever loved, his team had been kind of tip-toeing around him, not sure what to say or how to act. He wanted to scream, "Yes, me and Sara are together, we've been hiding it for 2 years, we love each other, now go away, damnit!"

"Look, I want you to come over for dinner tonight before shift. Don't look at me like that, you haven't been to my house in a long time and, well, I miss it."

Truthfully, it did sound tempting. He missed their dinners together, too. Sara always encouraged him to go out with Catherine, but when he and Sara had time to themselves, he always just wanted to spend it with her.

"Okay. I'll be there. And don't think for a second I don't know what this is about, either."

Catherine smirked. "And you're still going to come?"

He sighed. "Catherine, I want to get it out in the open. You deserve to know, everyone does. So, yes, we can eat dinner and I'll answer all your questions."

Catherine looked surprise. He guessed she was expecting a lot more apprehension from him.

"Great. I'll see you at 9, then." She smiled and got up to leave. When the door closed behind her, he closed his eyes again, thinking about the relationship that made him so happy and yet so confused.

They always tried to maintain some kind of distance while at the lab together. He'd schedule them to work a case together if necessary, and sometimes just because he wanted to spend extra time with her. When he wanted to be alone, he scheduled her with someone else. He liked that little bit of power he had, and she seemed to understand and appreciate when he needed his space.

The first time he kissed her at work, it took both of them by surprise. He sent her and Warrick out to a murder scene in Henderson, only to find out later it was yet another case of spousal abuse. The husband, tired of his wife's indescretions, shot her in the head 5 times. Doc Robbins also found bruises all over her body, suggesting repeated longterm abuse.

Grissom didn't hear about it firsthand from her, but from Warrick, who came to update him about the case. When Warrick mentioned the abuse, Grissom winced. They'd only been together a few months at the time, but even then he knew Sara was going to have a few nightmares about this one.

"Where's Sara?" He asked Warrick.

"She's in the break room, I think. She looked pretty shaken, and I didn't want to bother her."

Grissom thanked him and walked to the break room. She was sitting on the sofa, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. He knew she wasn't really reading it, she was just trying to get her mind off what she'd seen.

He sat on the sofa next to her. She looked up at him, her eyes red. He took her hand, and then he leaned over and kissed her softly. She smiled, clearly appreciating the gesture.

"Griss...anyone can come in here. Ecklie could come in here."

"I know...but it's important to me that you know your happiness comes first, okay? If it means everybody in Las Vegas law enforcement walking in on us making out, well, we'll deal with that. Okay?"

She nodded and kissed him back. And less then a minute later, Ecklie did walk in. Fortunately, Gil was getting a cup of coffee and not making out with his underling at the time.

Gil thought about that when he went home to rest before having dinner with Catherine. He told Sara that her happiness comes first, and at the time he really meant it. He wondered if that was an empty promise made in the early days of a love affair; the kind you whisper in your lover's ear and then forget about when a certain amount of time has passed. Would he do that now, after 2 years together? Would he kiss her if there was any kind of chance they could get caught, even if it would make her happy? The sad thing was, he didn't know if he would.

Before he left for Catherine's, he tried calling Sara again. As usual, she didn't answer. It frustrated him, the way she was trying to punish him for something he didn't know he did wrong. Was it because he had to leave California to get back to Vegas? He knew she was disappointed about that, but he explained to her why it had to be that way.

He stopped leaving messages after the 20th time she didn't answer her phone, but this time he left one.

"Honey, I know you're mad at me. I can't say I know why. Please call me, okay? I miss you. Bruno is a mess without you. I'm serious, Sara. He just mopes around all day, it's pathetic. He sleeps on your side of the bed. He still eats; God knows he can't go without a meal. But he misses you just as much as I do. Call us, Sara. Just tell me what I can do to fix this. I love you."

He closed his cell phone and looked down at Bruno, laying by his feet. Bruno looked up at him with sad Boxer eyes that broke Gil's heart.

"I know, boy, I miss her too." He got on the floor and scratched the dog's belly, which always made Bruno's day. _Well, at least someone's happy,_ Grissom thought as he left the house.

Catherine's house was only a few miles away, and he made it there quickly. The fragrant smells of garlic and onions wafted through his nose when he walked in the house, handing her a bottle of wine.

"I made you some steak," she said as she lead him inside. "I know you're probably not eating a lot of meat lately, so I thought you'd enjoy it." He gave her a Look. She chuckled.

While she cooked, they talked about Lindsey and how Catherine was trying to control her teenage daughter's rebellious ways.

"I caught her smoking, Gil. And not a cigarette, either."

"What? Was it in the house?"

"God, no. She knows if I ever caught her doing that in my house, there'd be hell to pay. No, it was in the parking lot of the movie theater where I dropped her off. She was with some scary looking guy. I showed the guy my badge and said if he ever showed up around my daughter again, I'd put him in a cell with someone who hasn't seen a woman in 20 years. I think he might have shit his pants."

Gil laughed. He could imagine Catherine doing that, very vividly in fact.

"As for Lindsey, I didn't have to tell her anything. She confessed it all in the car. She said, "Mom, I know it's wrong, and I know you're going to ground me, and I don't think that's right because a lot of kids experiment at my age. But I understand why you have to, and that's okay. And I won't do it again, because I know it can only lead to bad things."

"So you didn't ground her, then?"

Catherine laughed. "Oh, I grounded her for 2 months. But it would have been 3 if not for her little speech."

After the meal, which Gil thoroughly enjoyed (Catherine was right; he hadn't had steak in months), he knew it was time to talk about what he least wanted to talk about.

"Okay, okay, I told you I'd answer your questions. Go ahead, I'm ready."

"Well," she said, the hint of a smile on her face, "I told everyone I was having dinner with you tonight, and if they wanted to know anything, tell me and I'd ask you. So a sample of the questions: Are you really with Sara, how long have you been with Sara, are you and Sara really together, does she love you like you love her, is she a good kisser, are you a good kisser, and how much would you pay us to not tell Ecklie about you two?"

Grissom shook his head. He should have known.

"Wow, such an inquisitve team I have. To answer all those questions: Yes, 2 years, yes, yes, absolutely, nobody's complained, and maybe 10 bucks if they ask nicely."

Catherine almost spit out her wine.

"Gil...2 years? Are you serious?"

He nodded. "Right after Nicky was kidnapped."

She looked at him, clearly frustrated she didn't know about this sooner.

"I can't believe it. I mean, we're trained investigators and we never figured it out!"

"Yeah, well, so are we," he said. "We're good at our jobs."

"So...what is she doing in California?"

Sara told him he could tell them the reason, so he said, "She went to visit her mother. They'd been estranged for a long time for a number of reasons. Her mother was sick and Sara wanted to reconcile with her before she passed away. Which did happen, just about a week ago."

"Oh, Gil, I had no idea!" Catherine shook her head. "So many secrets going on with the two of you...were you ever planning on telling us about what was going on?"

"We were going to tell you when she got back from California."

She looked at him funny. He knew what was coming.

"Going to? You're not going to now?"

He sighed and looked down at his wine glass. He wouldn't meet Catherine's eyes, which he could feel like lasers on his face.

"Gil Grissom, what did you do?" She said it almost angrily, like she knew he was going to mess it all up.

"Okay, well, it turns out she's thinking about staying in California. I went down there for her mother's funeral, but I had to come back quickly because you were on your vacation. She didn't like that I had to leave, so she pretty much left me. We have a dog, Catherine. His name is Bruno and he misses her as much as I do. And I really have no idea what to do about it. I don't know why she's mad, and I don't know how I can get her to come back to me. I just...don't know."

He took a breath. It all came out so fast, before he even knew what he was saying.

"God, Gil, are you dumb or what? You don't wait for her to come back her, you go to her!"

"Catherine, you know I can't-"

"No, no, I don't know that you can't do that. You know very well you could have put Warrick or Nicky in charge while you stayed with Sara. The girl lost her mother, Gil, of course she needs you! And Warrick and Nick could use the experience."

"But I don't understand-"

"I know you don't, and you never have. And I've tried to stay out of your love life, the trainwreck it's always been, up until now. God, you know what I told Sara? I told her Lady Heather was the only woman that ever rattled you. Lady Heather, Gil! A dominatrix!" Recognition dawned on her face, and she looked like she knew all the answers.

"Oh, Gil! You spent the night with Heather! What do you think that did to Sara?"

"I don't think it did anything! I told her what I had to do and she said she understood! You and I both know I didn't sleep with Heather. I was just helping her out as a friend. Heather was going through a downward spiral and someone had to help her. So I did, and I think I made a difference."

Catherine sighed and shook her head. She came over to Gil and sat next to him. She took his hand, and he had no choice but to look her in the eye.

"Sara knows you didn't sleep with her, I'm sure she knows that. And yet, it doesn't matter. Spending the night at a dominatrix's house that you once had a fling with - and don't try to deny it, you guys had smoking chemistry - that's not cool. It's not good for a relationship. It's not good for a girl's self esteem."

"So is that why she's mad at me? Is that why...she's leaving me?"

Catherine got up and started pacing the room.

"That's probably one of the reasons, yes. But you've also been so consumed with the miniature killer for almost a year now, and when it's not the miniature killer, it's some other case that you can't take your mind off of. Or a sabbatical. Did you even ask her about the sabbatical, Gil? Did you talk about it with her before you left her here for a month?"

"Well...no. I didn't, not exactly."

"And when you guys are at home together, do you make it about her? Or do you watch Godzilla on that huge TV of yours with your giant dog and just hope she's okay with it?"

"Sara likes Bruno. And she happens to like giant reptiles."

"Whatever. Did she say anything that may suggest what she wanted, or something like that?"

He thought about it. He really thought about it. And he found himself thinking about Laura's funeral, when Sara said something about unconditional love. Wait. Did she not think he loved her unconditionally? That he placed...conditions on their life together? How could she possibly think that?

"She said something about unconditional love. And she also mentioned that her mother taught her to fight for it. If you think something is worth it, fight for it."

"Well, what the hell are you waiting for, Gil? Go fight for her!"

"But there's so much I have left to do at the office-"

"Look, there's something you're going to have to come to terms with. It's work or her, Gil. It's come to that point. You're going to have to pick one."

He looked at her, and she nodded. She basically just described what he knew all along: he couldn't have both. It was impossible.

"While you think about that, I want you to go to San Francisco and do whatever you have to do to get her back here. You're not the only one who loves her, Gil. We all do. She's part of the team, and we don't work as well without her."

He sat there on her sofa, thinking about what it was he had to do. Sometimes, when things really got tough, he wondered if it was worth it. He'd have to sacrifice basically everything to be with this woman that turned him inside out and upside down. But he knew the answer to that: of course it was worth it. Like Brass told him what seemed like ages ago, he had a career for a long time, when had he ever known true love?

"Will you take care of my dog?" He asked Catherine. She smiled and nodded.

"Just give me your key and I'll pick him up. Lindsey will love it."

He gave her a kiss on the cheek. He then drove to McCarren Airport and booked the next flight to San Francisco. He had no bags or clothes or anything else but his wallet and the knowledge that he was about to make the biggest decision of his life.


	18. I'll Miss You

**A/N: 2 more chapters left, boo! Also, with this chapter, the story is now over 50,000 words and would probably qualify as the longest story I've ever written. I've participated in Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month for the uninitiated) 4 times, but they never went much over 50,000 words. The point is: I'm proud of my little story, and if you like it, a girl never gets tired of some feedback.**

One more thing: if the ending seems a little abrupt to you, I'd like to direct you to the first 2 chapters which pretty much deals with the aftermath.

 _Vegas, year seven_

For the first time since she came to Vegas, Sara was finally feeling like she hit her stride. She was striving in her career and managing to not get too deeply engrossed in office politics. Her colleagues were amazing and she enjoyed spending time with them on and off the clock. And she was in a relationship with the man she loved. In fact, she finally let herself believe that she was happy, a feeling so rare that she once resigned herself to never feeling it again. That was before she was kissing Gil Grissom on a daily basis, though.

Seeing the first miniature was frightening. Sara had seen serial killers before; she was single-handedly responsible for taking down a notorious killer in San Francisco. They called him the Silk Stalker, because he would only target women who wore stockings. So the concept of a serial killer didn't scare her; it was the freakishly accurate detail in the miniatures that terrified her.

But nothing scared her as much as when Greg took the beating of his life. Greg had been through a lot in his years in the lab, and now as a rookie investigator he was unfortunately involved in the murder of a young black man. Greg just happened to drive by a mob of people beating up one innocent man. Greg tried to stop the beating only to become a victim himself. Demitrius James, one of the members of the mob, was certainly going to hurt, if not kill, Greg if he didn't make a decision fast. Greg ended up running into Demitrius with his S.U.V., and Demitrius later died.

As soon as Sara heard, she rushed to the scene of the accident. She saw the man Greg ran over, Demitrius. She saw the man the mob was beating to a pulp when Greg showed up on the scene. They both had medics attending to them. And then she saw Greg, who was alone, bloody and beaten.

Sara found Sofia and asked her why nobody was attending to Greg. It's not that she didn't like Sofia, she just preferred that Sofia didn't exist, and it was annoying Sara to see Greg all by himself.

"He's been stabilized. Sara, he's going to be okay," Sofia said.

Sara rushed over to him and kneeled down to touch his head. His eyes were closed and she wasn't sure if he was conscious or not.

"Sara..." he said, keeping his eyes closed.

"I didn't know you could see me," Sara said.

"I can't, but I know that Sidle scent."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment."

Greg had also been injured in the lab explosion 3 years earlier, and when Sara came to visit him, she was shocked to see how burned and bruised he was. This man that was normally so happy and energetic and funny looked so beaten, the life burned right out of him. He came back from that accident; would he come back from this one?

He told Sara that he scratched one of his attackers, and one of them might have spit on his vest.

"You should process the scene now," he said. "Me later."

"I came here for you, Greg," she said.

He smiled appreciatively. She took his hand, and they stayed there like that, him lying on the ground, eyes closed; and her, sitting next to him, running her fingers through his hair.

When Greg made it to the hospital, Grissom went to see him. Later, at home, he and Sara sat on his leather sofa and talked about it.

"You know he never told his parents he wasn't in the lab anymore? His mother is apparently very overprotective," Grissom said thoughtfully.

"I didn't know he never told them, but I knew his mom was overprotective. He said that the first time he told his mom he went out in the field, she yelled like he never heard her yell before. I think it's nice, actually."

"Are you going to be an overprotective mommy?" He teased her, smiling.

He'd been doing that a lot lately, referring to kids and sometimes marriage, and it was always when she was least expecting it. She was so used to him giving her the cold shoulder about anything other than work for so many years, that when he actually admitted that he thought about these things, it was kind of shocking. She was pretty sure he liked catching her off guard like that.

"I have no idea what kind of mommy I'll be. I haven't really thought about it."

"You're a nurturer, Sara, you'll be a great mom."

She had no idea what to say that wonderful, generous compliment, so she changed the subject. "I can't believe those monsters were wearing costumes. What is happening to this world, Griss? People are beating each other just for fun now? I just don't get it."

He didn't say anything, just held her closer to him. It was something she was really starting to love about him - he always seemed to know when she needed him to comfort her and when she just needed him to hold her.

* * *

But then the second miniature came, and then the third. Grissom became a little more obsessed with each one, and Sara could feel him slipping away from her. All the hard work she did to bring him to this point, the point where he was actually starting to thrive in this relationship, was starting to be for naught. It was frustrating, and Sara didn't know how she could get him back.

She knew there was a problem when she stopped by his office after a long day in court. She sat on the bench all day, waiting for her name to be called, and it never was. It was the most mind-numbingly boring day she'd had in a long time. But it was over now, and she'd been looking forward to seeing him. It helped that she looked good, and she knew it. He, however, seemed to be in another world - a world that most likely didn't include her.

"I heard the guys solved a double murder," she said.

"Mm-hmm," he said distractedly.

"I spent the day sitting on a bench outside the courtroom; they never got to me."

"That sucks," he said. She kind of wanted to shake him. She kind of wanted to yell, "Hey, remember me, your girlfriend? The one who has been patient for 7 years and now that patience is beginning to fade, Mister?"

Instead, she said, "Feeling transcendental?"

"Hmm?"

"Thoreau," she said, looking at his book, _Walden._ "I, uh, I haven't read him since college."

"Me, neither. It holds up. 'I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself, than be crowded on a velvet cushion.'

 _Well, that describes him to a tee, doesn't it?_ She found herself thinking bitterly. She wanted to tell him where he could put that pumpkin.

She looked down at a clipboard that had his daily crossword on it. They would often work on crosswords together when they had a little time at home; it was one of their favorite activities to do together.

"Oh, look, you missed one. Sixty-three down. Misanthrope."

He just looked at her, probably wondering what was going through her head.

"I won't wait up," she said, leaving his office. On days she didn't sleep at her own apartment, which were many, she would usually head to his townhouse at least an hour before he was done for the day. She had a feeling she'd be waiting for a while today.

* * *

She really should have seen the sabbatical coming. In reality, she wasn't that surprised when he told her he was leaving. The miniature killer turned out to be one Ernie Dell, who confessed his actions on video to Grissom. While Grissom watched, Ernie Dell blew his brains out on that video. As soon as Sara heard that, she knew Grissom was going to need a break.

"I'm going to Massachusetts," he blurted out one day over a late lunch. "I'm leaving next week. I'll be gone for a month."

Even though she knew he needed to get away for a little while, she didn't know it would be so far away. Or for so long. Or without her, for that matter.

"Oh," she said, not really knowing what he expected her to say.

"They offered me a seminar on Thoreau, and I took it. I know you realize I need to get away from here, Sara. I just don't want you to think that I need to get away from you. It's not you. I just need...out."

There were many things she could say at this point, but none of them really seemed to matter. He was going to leave. He needed out. And he didn't want her to go with him. Clearly he needed time away from her. She tried to look at it rationally...if time was what he needed; time was what he would have. It wouldn't be beneficial to either one of them if she had a girly fit about it. And maybe he'd realize a few things while he was gone. She was counting on it.

"Okay. Have fun."

He sighed.

"Sara, come on, I know that's not all you have to say about it."

"Yes, actually it is. You need to leave? Go. I'll be here when you get back."

He smiled and kissed her.

"Thanks, Honey. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

He was always saying he'd make it up to her, and he always would for a while. Until the next time he promised to make it up to her. She wondered, not for the first time, if he would ever really keep that promise.

* * *

His taxi had arrived. He told the driver to wait 5 minutes; he had something he needed to do.Roaming down the halls of the lab, he looked for the only person he wanted to see. He found Sara in the locker room, putting her jacket away.

"Hey," he said, watching her closely. "My cab's here."

"So, you're going?" She asked.

"Yeah."

"I'll see you when you get back."

He wanted to do a lot of things right then. He wanted to close the door to the locker room, pin her against the locker and kiss her. A lot. He wanted to take her hand, lead her to the cab, go to the airport and take a plane to Brazil instead of Massachusetts. What he most wanted to do was cancel the cab and stay with her, only her, all the time, but he couldn't. He had to get out. He had to think.

So he just said, "I'll miss you."

She only nodded. He left her standing there, wondering what happened between the two of them.

There were many reasons why he felt he had to take this seminar opportunity. One, he hadn't been offered a seminar in a long time and he was honored. Two, the miniature killer case nearly broke him. Finding out who was responsible for the miniatures had been hard enough, but watching Ernie Dell take his own life right before his very eyes was just...too much. Nobody should have to see that in their lives, and now he'd seen somebody kill themselves twice.

Ernie Dell had gotten into his head. Especially because Grissom understood the miniatures. He appreciated the exquisite detail that went into making them. He was almost sympathetic to a killer just because the miniatures were nothing like he'd ever seen before. It was completely maddening. And there was something else, too. Something about Ernie completely threw Gil off. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it didn't seem like that guy could pull off the detail of the miniature crime scene. He never told anyone because the proof was real; Ernie killed himself to get out of paying for what he'd done. But Grissom still thought there was something not quite right about it all.

The third reason was more complicated. He loved Sara, deeply and truly and faithfully. But this love was scaring the bejesus out him. She very nearly lived with him, for one thing. Coming home to her; opening the door of his townhouse and seeing her on the sofa watching an old movie or a documentary on the Discovery Channel gave him a happiness he never knew existed. But it was also strange to have someone around all the time. He wasn't used to that. When it came down to it, he wasn't used to being in love, and he needed to figure out what the hell he could do about it.

Massachusetts was cold. It was snowy and cold and all he could see when he looked out at his students was Sara. Sara, the young fiery college girl that came to his seminar as a student and left as a friend. He looked for students at his seminar; he looked to see if any of them had the spark Sara had. None of them did. And it made him miss her so much it hurt.

Yet he didn't call her. There were so many things he wanted to tell her that picking up the phone seemed entirely overwhelming. He had no idea what kind of damage he was causing to the relationship, but he knew in his heart she would understand. And then he just felt like a bastard for knowing that she'd understand. Isn't that what their relationship had been about from the very start? It was a problem, and he was going to have to change.

He did write her a letter. He sat at his desk the school provided him and he wrote her a long letter, complete with a Shakespearian sonnet.

 _I don't know why I find it so difficult to express my feelings to you. Even though we're far apart, I can see you as vividly as if you were here with me. I said I'll miss you, and I do. As Shakespeare more ably wrote my sentiment in Sonnet 47, Thyself away art present still with me; For thou not farther than my thoughts canst move, and I am still with them. Or, if they sleep, thy picture in my sight, Awakes my heart to heart's and eye's delight."_

Happy with his letter, he folded it and addressed the envelope. But then he thought better of it. He was going to send it with the cocoon; he knew she was going to love that cocoon. But what good would the letter really do? If he couldn't even talk to her on the phone, would she really appreciate getting a letter saying the things he couldn't say to her face to face or through the phone? He couldn't do it. Maybe he'd show it to her someday. Maybe he'd tell her instead of show her. Maybe he'd do a lot of things, and then again, maybe he wouldn't.

* * *

After a long, cold month of teaching disinterred students about mosquitoes and Walden Pond, Grissom came home. What he wanted to do was get off that plane, find Sara and give her the best sex of both their lives. But he knew she wasn't exactly going to be happy with him. He also hadn't counted on Mike Keppler and the drama he was currently inflicting upon Grissom's CSIs.

Mike Keppler filled in for Grissom while he was gone, and he brought a whole plethora of secrets with him. When Grissom got back to his office, he found Catherine a complete mess and the rest of the team out on a scavenger hunt to find what Keppler had been hiding.

And he couldn't find Sara. He couldn't wait to see her, even if he did look a little scruffy. He didn't shave while in Massachusetts and his beard was quite impressive, he thought. He lost a little weight from walking everywhere. He felt good physically, and now all he wanted to do was find Sara and tell her all the things he'd been meaning to say.

While he was looking through his gigantic stack of mail, he finally saw Sara walking down the hall. He nearly ran out of his office.

"Sara!" He kind of yelled, not even caring about who was around to see their reunion.

"Hey, you're back," she said, and for the first time he noticed she was a little...well, dirty. And smelly. And it was completely endearing and lovely and he wished they were at home and not in the hallway at work.

"Yeah," he said.

"Uh, I've been out at a, um. I've been at a..."

"A garbage dump?" He said, smirking just a little.

"Yeah." She was backing away from him, clearly not wanting him to smell her or even really look at her. It was cute how self-conscious she was being, but seeing that all he wanted to do was touch her, it was also very frustrating.

"It's so obvious, isn't it?" She took a good look at him, and he guessed she was just noticing the beard. "Nice, um...you look good."

"Did you, uh, put the cocoon in my office?"

"Cool, dry, not a lot of light; Seemed like the right place for it."

"I think you're going to be surprised when it hatches."

"I have no doubt," she said. "I'm gonna go clean up now."

He stopped following her, and she slowed down.

"I'll see you later," he said.

"Yeah, you will." And then she was gone. He had no idea what to take from that conversation. Was she mad at him or not? Did she still love him? Was she going to be mad at him? He didn't know, but didn't have time to think about it, either.

The Keppler drama boiled over, and Grissom found himself a few hours later at a seedy motel, watching a crazed Catherine sob over Keppler's body. Whatever Keppler had been involved in, it was over now. Grissom held Catherine and pulled her away from the ambulance that took Keppler away. He didn't know what feelings she had for the man, but she certainly felt something.

Grissom took Catherine home. She tried to pull herself together in the car so she wouldn't be a wreck when she came home to Lindsey.

Grissom told her, "I'm sorry, Catherine. I know you've been through a lot this year, and I wish this didn't happen to you, I really do."

She hugged him before she got out of the car. "Thanks, Gil. I'll get through this one like I always get through the rest of it." He watched her walk to her door and disappear inside. And then he broke every existing law to get to Sara's apartment as fast as he could.

He knocked on her door, and she answered within seconds. Before he had a chance to say anything, her lips were on his, instantly forgiving him for anything he could have done.

"I told you I'd be here when you got back," she whispered in his ear, and then licked it.

Later, when the fun had been had and the wine glasses were empty, Grissom finally started talking.

"I know I owe you an explanation, so let me start, okay? I was just scared-"

Sara smiled and put her hand over his mouth. She had a beautiful smile.

"Griss, I don't want you to explain. You're back, you're here with me, and I'm sure you found whatever it was you needed to find out there. I get it. You don't always have to explain everything."

He stared at her, grateful he had such a kindhearted woman for a girlfriend. He was stupid to leave her. He'd never do it again.

* * *

And then the miniature killer was back. Gissom finally got around to opening a package that had been sitting on his desk for nearly a month only to find it was another miniature. It was postmarked after Ernie Dell's death, so now they were at square one again. Grissom tried not to get too involved, he really did, but he couldn't help it. If it wasn't Ernie Dell, who the hell could it be?

The miniatures continued to plague him over the next couple of months, but he did his best to spend as much time as possible with Sara. He wanted to make her feel loved. He wanted to make her feel the way she made him feel: like he could take over the world with her by his side. He did his best and thought he could feel her coming around.

"Do you want to get a dog?" He asked her one day.

"A dog? Yeah, I would like to get a dog," she said, smiling happily. "I've never had one."

"Me, either. I think we should get a Boxer. My mother had one for a long time, and he was a good boy."

"I want a Boxer, too! Hannah, my colleague in San Francisco, had one, and she was always talking about what a great dog he was."

So, they found a Boxer rescue group and obtained themselves a dog. His name was Bruno, he was 4 years old and he drooled. All the time. But he belonged to them, and they loved him as much as 2 loving parents could love something together.

Things were definitely looking up for the two of them, but something was still off. He sensed that even though she said he didn't owe her an explanation, she was still hurt about the sabbatical. He tried as hard as he could to make up for it, and it seemed like things were going to be okay. And then he went and screwed things up again with the infamous Lady Heather.

He didn't sleep with her. He didn't even want to sleep with her. But he needed to know what was wrong with her. She wasn't herself, and he wanted to know why. Just a year earlier, she lost her daughter to a horrible man. Grissom had to stop her from killing that horrible man; beating him to death with her whip in the dark Nevada desert. He knew she was on edge, he just didn't know how far.

As soon as Grissom heard about Heather, he rushed to the hospital to see her. In the car, he desperately hoped it wasn't going to be Sara who was processing Heather, who apparently had strangulation marks around her neck. It wasn't that he didn't want Sara to meet her, exactly...it's just that he never really told Sara about Heather.

But he saw her as soon as he got to the hospital room. Heather didn't make things any better by saying his name before Sara even saw him.

"I'm almost done here," Sara said, finishing up. She did not look happy.

When she was done, Sara left, not bothering to look at Grissom. He'd talk to her later. Now, he needed to talk to Heather.

He talked to her enough to determine that she was covering for a client of hers. Something was very wrong here, but she refused to tell him what. And before he could get it out of here, she started going into diabetic shock. He called the nurses, informing them of her diabetes. And then he went to find Sara. He knew she was still somewhere in the hospital filling out the mounds of paperwork he knew she had. He found her by the vending machines in the waiting room, vacantly looking at the TV.

"Sara, look-"

"Griss, Catherine told me about Heather," she said shakily. "I know about her now. I know she's the only person who ever rattled you. I know, okay? So what do you want?"

She sounded hostile, and Grissom tried to diffuse the situation as best he could.

"Sara, Honey, please understand. That was a long time ago. And you have to know that it was only one night, nothing else. We haven't kept in touch. I saw her last year when her daughter died, but nothing happened."

She looked at him. There was the hint of tears in her eyes, and he sighed.

"She never rattled me like you always have since the beginning," he said. "Catherine has no idea. She doesn't know how much I love you and how much I think about you and how much I want to be with you. And Heather doesn't know that, either. But as long as you know, then I'm happy. You know that, right? You know how much you mean to me. And you know how I would never jeopardize that in any kind of way, right?"

"Well, yes. Of course I know that."

"Good. Because, Sara...something is wrong with Heather. I consider her a friend, and I'm not sure she has any of those right now."

"Do what you have to do," she told him, disapproval clear in her eyes.

"Thank you, Honey. I love you, and you are the only person I ever want to come home to." And then he left, needing to get to the bottom of what was bothering Heather.

He did spend the night with Heather, but they only talked, of course. And Grissom found out many important things that were going through Heather's mind. Later, he found Heather's granddaughter and reunited the two of them. It seemed like everyone was happy. And he was happy, because he was going home to Sara.

But when he got home, she had his letter. And she had another letter, one from her mother. And then she was gone, and he didn't know why.


	19. Speechless

**A/N - I am sad this story is coming to an end, it was fun to write, fun to get feedback and awesome to work with my beta, the awesome GSFanatic, whose feedback I really came to look forward to and appreciate. So, yeah. Rock on and everything.**

 _2007_

Sara's cell phone rang. She silenced it without looking at it because she knew it would be one of two people: Chris or Grissom. And she didn't want to talk to either one of them.

Barbara was letting Sara stay in the house as long as she needed to, for which Sara was quite grateful. Even just apartments in San Francisco were ridiculously expensive, and she wasn't sure what she wanted to do about her living situation. She wasn't sure what she wanted to do about any situation, actually. It was time to make a decision about something, anything, and it was making her crazy.

Robbie left a few days after the funeral to go back to Miami. He missed his girlfriend and he was ready to go.

"I'm so glad you came, Sara," he told her when she dropped him off at the airport. "It was really important to Mom that you were here when she was going through it all."

"Thank you, Robbie, for everything." She was trying not to cry, but it would be a losing battle.

"What did I do?"

"Just...everything. Thank you for being here with me. Thanks for being with her when I wouldn't be. Thanks for convincing me to come out here. Just...thank you, pretty much."

They hugged, and she watched him go through a stream of tears. It had been so valuable to get to know her brother again. He was righting his wrongs of the past, just like her, and she was so glad to have him in her life.

After he was gone, she set about figuring out what to do next. Martin said he'd definitely let her come back to the old lab, but only if her boss said it was okay. Sara was sure Grissom would see how badly Sara needed out of Las Vegas, and he'd tell Martin it would be okay. She was kind of looking forward to working cases in a city without so much glamour and lights and breast implants.

When she came by to visit Martin, Chris was in his office talking to him about a case. His eyes lit up when Sara walked in, and she couldn't help but smile. He really was a nice guy. Nothing like Grissom, but maybe that was a good thing at this point in her life.

"Do you want to get some lunch?" Chris asked her after she talked to Martin.

"Um, sure. That would be great."

He was quiet for a second, and Sara started to feel a little uneasy.

"On second thought, how about dinner? I'm working tonight, but maybe tomorrow night? I make a mean spaghetti."

Well, that couldn't be good. He wanted her to come over to his house so he could make her dinner? That meant it was a date, right?

"Um, Chris, no dinner, okay? Not yet. I'll go to lunch with you, though."

He wasn't quite happy about that, but he was still smiling when he said, "Great. I know a good place."

They had a pleasant conversation at lunch. Somehow, he got her to admit she was thinking about staying in California permanently. It was strange how well he seemed to know her; how easy it was for him to make her talk about things she didn't have the slightest bit of interest in talking about. _Or he could just be the world's greatest manipulator,_ Sara thought during their lunch.

"What does Gus think of that? Is he coming, too?" He asked her, looking like he was enjoying how squirmy she was getting.

"It's Gil, Chris. You know that. And no, he's not coming. And if you ask me any more questions about him right now, I swear to God I'll break your nose."

He only chuckled.

"No offense, Sara, but I knew you guys were having troubles when I first saw you back in California again. I mean, I know it was because of your mom, but if he really loved you, he would be with you every step of the way."

"How can you say that? You don't know anything about us, or our situation, or anything-"

"Yeah, I know. But I don't have to know anything about you two. If he loved you like you deserved to be loved, he wouldn't leave your side."

Sara frowned. She didn't like where this conversation was going. As she predicted, it only got worse.

"If he loved you the way...others loved you, you would not be sitting here with me right now."

"Chris, really, that's enough. I'm tired of talking about it and I want you to respect that."

He nodded.

"Fair enough. Just remember, though. When you go home tonight and your thoughts start to wander, as they inevitably do, back to that guy...let yourself think about how you have other options. Options that might just treat you better then you thought you deserved."

She dismissed it as ridiculous, but he did sort of have a point. When she went to bed, she did obviously think about Grissom. She was in love with the man, had been for a decade of her life. He was a genius. He knew more about the sex life of a cockroach then he did about human relationships, but that had been okay, at least for a little while. She always found him very attractive, and further than that, she was always attracted to him. Even when he rejected her time and time again, she'd look in his eyes and find it hard to stay mad at him. There was just...something...about Gil Grissom that she couldn't seem to shake off.

She remembered back a few months ago to when he had been back from his sabbatical for a week or two. During the sabbatical, he grew a long, white beard. She liked it, but it did make him look a little, well, old. So she suggested one day, after a long and grueling shift, that she shave it off for him.

"I don't know, honey...have you done it before?"

"Yes, I have. I used to do it for my dad sometimes. It's been a while, but I think I can handle it."

He nodded and agreed to let her shave his beard. What neither of them counted on was how arousing the experience was. Putting a towel around his neck, lathering his face with shaving cream, selecting the razor...it was almost something like a primitive experience, and they both got off on that.

Getting the razor ready, she asked him, "Do you trust me?"

He looked her straight in the eye, looking so vulnerable with shaving cream on his face, waiting for her to do an act that could possibly go horribly wrong.

"Intimately," he said in a low, seductive tone. She smiled and started shaving him.

Afterwards, they made love for what seemed like hours. She loved that he trusted her intimately. And she also loved that it was not an honor he would give to most of the people in his life.

Those were the moments that made everything worth it for Sara. But there was never enough of them. He could call her day and night and write her letters and love poems and sonnets from Shakespeare, but he couldn't give her what she needed - unconditional love. His conditions were simple and precise in that what he needed from her was everlasting patience. And at first that was okay, she could do that. But soon enough, her patience ran out.

Before she drifted off to sleep, she briefly allowed herself to think about Chris. Before they left the restaurant, he asked her again to have dinner with him.

"Tomorrow night, okay? Sara, I know you are recovering from a long-term relationship, and I promise I'll respect that. I think dinner would be nice, and if you never have my awesome spaghetti, you're missing out!"

Sara sighed. He was quite a persuasive man.

"Okay, Chris. Fine. I'll call you and you can give me directions tomorrow, okay?"

He smiled instantly. She felt bad. There was no way she would ever feel half the way for him that she did for Grissom.

 _What am I doing?_ She wondered for the millionth time.

Before she could get in her car and contemplate that question, Chris resorted to his usual technique and grabbed her hand. He kissed her. And it wasn't terrible.

"See you tomorrow night," he said. She nodded meekly and walked back to her car. She watched as he drove out of the parking lot, again wondering what the hell she was doing. Why didn't she just book a plane, pack her shit and go back to her comfortable life? The life where she loved listening to Nick and Warrick talk about last night's game because they were both so passionate. The life where Greg talked about everything with an interesting kind of excitement she knew she'd never have. The life where Catherine always suspected there was something Sara wasn't telling her and thus seemed to be on a never ending quest to find out what she was hiding. The life where Sara noticed those looks Catherine and Warrick exchanged when they thought no one was looking. She heard that Warrick's marriage was on the rocks, and she was secretly rooting for him and Catherine to just do it already.

And not to mention the life where she walked into Grissom's townhouse, and after a big, giant drooling dog welcomed her, she would sit down with her boyfriend and they would talk about the day they had. Oh, how it was such a relief to talk to someone about what she'd been through that day. Grissom had been through it all before, and she liked listening to his perspective on what happened.

But that life had become too easy for her, and she needed a challenge. But was San Francisco really a challenge at all? Like Robbie told her, it was flooded with bad memories. Why did she want to stay in a place where'd she be haunted by memories of her childhood at every corner? Maybe she needed a new start. She pictured New Mexico; maybe Santa Fe. The idea of going to a completely different place intrigued her, and it was her last thought before falling asleep.

Well, her next to last thought. Right before her eyes closed, she thought, _how can I go to New Mexico? Grissom isn't in New Mexico._

* * *

When Sara woke up the next morning, she felt like she needed to hear a friendly voice.

"CSI Crime Lab," answered the always-cheerful Judy.

"Hi, Judy, it's Sara Sidle."

"Sara, hi! We miss you so much around here! When are you coming back?"

"Oh, I don't really know yet. Hey, Judy, do you think I can talk to Nick? I won't be long, I just want to say hi."

"Oh, sweetie, he's out in the field right now. And Greg is, too. And Warrick is looking at video with Archie."

"Oh, okay…well, what about Catherine?"

"She's real busy, Sara. Grissom put her in charge before he left and now she's running around here like a chicken with its head cut off! She's just trying to keep it all together."

"Left? Where did Grissom go?"

"Oh, he said it was some kind of bug thing. Maybe a roach race or something? Who knows with that guy, right?" Sara shared a half-hearted chuckle with Judy before she hung up.

 _Typical,_ she thought bitterly. _Of course he's out doing some bug convention while I'm here trying to make huge decisions about my life._

Before that, she'd been considering calling Chris and cancelling dinner, but she was going through with it now. _Why not? It could be fun. I haven't had good homemade spaghetti in a long time._ And so the justifications kept coming and she managed to talk herself into it. She was actually a little excited about it.

She took her time in getting ready. When she and Grissom first started seeing other, she tried as hard as she could to separate Work Sara and Date Sara, but realized a few weeks into that project that it was going to fail. She resigned herself to the fact he knew what she looked like, whether it was with make-up or without, in a skirt or in jeans, and it didn't really matter what she wore or when she wore it. She found herself thinking it was nice to get dressed up for a date; to put a little care into how she looked.

As she dried her hair and then put her make-up on, she let herself think about Grissom one more time. She couldn't believe he was at some stupid bug thing! Of course she respected his reputation as an entomologist. She thought his love for and fascination with bugs was cute. There was also the added bonus of when she saw a cockroach, all she had to do was scream at the top of her lungs and Grissom would come take care of it for her. But she was not finding his love of bugs all that endearing right now.

She sighed when she finished putting her make-up on. The only thing she had left to do was put on her shoes. Before she could figure out what pair to wear, the doorbell rang. Barbara wasn't home, so Sara answered it.

Before she opened the door, she wondered if it would be Chris, showing up early to surprise her. She wouldn't put it past him; that would definitely be something he would do.

So when she opened the door to see Gil Grissom's blue eyes looking at her wearily, she couldn't have been more shocked.

"Grissom! What the hell are you doing here? Judy said you were at a bug thing!"

"That's what I told everyone. Sara, just come with me. Get in the car and come with me."

"That is not going to happen. I didn't want to talk to you on the phone, I didn't want to answer your emails, what makes you think I want to talk to you in person?"

"Can you just trust me, please? We've known each other too long for you not to trust me, Sara. Come with me."

"I can't. I have somewhere to be."

He looked at her. She watched as his eyes first radiated lust, and then confusion.

"That's interesting. I didn't know we were dating other people now. That's great. That's just...really great."

Sara backed down quickly. She also realized she was blocking him from coming inside the house.

"Come in. Sit down, I just have to make a phone call."

She left him there, starting at her from the doorway. In her bedroom, she called Chris to tell him she was canceling. He didn't sound surprised. Disappointed, definitely, but not surprised.

When she returned to the living room, Grissom was sitting on the sofa, like she instructed him to do. He looked so vulnerable; so sad. She wanted to run to him. She wanted to forget about this whole mess and let him whisk her back to Vegas. But how would that solve anything? _I need to be strong!_

She sat down next to him on the sofa. He didn't try to touch her. He didn't even look at her.

"We have a good thing, Sara," he said, when he finally started talking. "I know I'm not the best at expressing my feelings. I know I haven't been the best man I could have been to you over the years. But I can't say that I understand why you're giving up on us. All of our years, all of our history...all those looks we exchanged, all those words that we never could say to each other. You never gave up on me, Sara...why are you giving up on me now?"

 _Oh, God. He's not going to make it easy for me, is he?_

"Well, let me see if I can explain. Coming out here to see my mother changed something in me. Before I faced her, before I faced my past, there was something huge missing from my life. Getting to know Laura Sidle was an enlightening experience. I learned that I don't always have to work so hard for someone's love. And, Griss...I feel like I'm always working for your love. It's like, every day I wake up and think how I can challenge you and make you laugh and keep you guessing, and it's so much goddamn work and I'm tired of it. It's exhausting, Grissom. I'm tired of competing with bugs. I'm tired of competing with Ecklie or Catherine or the constant paperwork or a serial killer or whatever the hell it is that's keeping you up at night. I'm exhausted, Grissom. I don't want to work so hard for it anymore."

He looked at her. He looked at her so intensely she thought he was looking directly into her soul. He was the only man who could ever manage to do that to her.

"I'm sorry for making you feel that way. I'm so sorry. You said something about unconditional love at your mother's funeral. Your mother gave that to you, even when you felt like you didn't deserve it. And you have given it to me, even when I know I didn't deserve it. And now you feel that I haven't given you that in return, and you can't even imagine how sorry I am for that. But you have to know, Sara...I've always loved you unconditionally. You never had to work for it, okay? I'm just an old man with old habits that I never managed to break. But I can do that. I will do that. Because I don't want to lose you."

Sara shook her head and sighed.

"I know you don't, Griss. But how do I know that's going to change? I always seem to need something from you that you can't provide. And what if I do go back to Vegas with you right now? And what if there's a new serial killer? What if there's a new case that you can't forget about, that keeps you up at nights? What if Ecklie breaks up the team again or what if Catherine-"

"Sara. Look at me. You also said your mother taught you to fight for what was real in your life. Well, guess what, so did my mother. So I guess what it really comes down to is if you're going to fight for us or not. Because I am going to fight. I'm fighting for what is real in my life. I am fighting for what I believe is true in my life. Are you going to give up on us, or are you just going to give up without a fight? Are you going to let me go back to Vegas, and are you going to stay in this city where you not only witnessed the brutal murder of your father, but the untimely death of your mother, as well? What are you going to do, Sara?"

"How are you fucking fighting for me right now, Grissom? How is you getting on a plane and renting a car and coming to this house have anything to do with fighting for me? For all I know, you're just horny or something!" Sara got up to find some tissues. She was going to need them.

While she was looking in the bathroom, she felt him come in behind her.

"I quit. I quit my job. I'm no longer the supervisor of the Graveyard shift."

Sara just stared at him.

"I talked to Ecklie at the airport. He said he understood, and even if I didn't quit, he might have had to fire me for our relationship, anyway. He also said it probably wouldn't have gotten to that point, but he was glad I made the first move."

She continued to stare at him.

"Catherine called me after I got off the plane. There's a lot of things to approve and a lot of paperwork to fill out, but basically, she's supervisor now. I told Ecklie I'd come in if an entomologist was needed, and he agreed that would be fine."

Sara couldn't stop staring.

"I'm not sure what I'll do next. Probably teach seminars, have cockroach races, stay home and make dinner and watch baseball. It would be nice if you were there to share it with me, but apparently-"

She kissed him. She said, "Shut up, please," and she kissed him.

Just before it got interesting, she looked in his eyes and asked, "You really gave up the lab? For me?"

"I gave it up for _us,_ Sara." She liked that answer. So she kissed him again.

And it had been so long since she tasted his lips, and she wanted more. So they kept kissing, and even though Sara didn't know if Barbara was home or not, and she wasn't sure if they closed the bathroom door or not, suddenly that bathroom floor got more action then it had ever seen.

Afterwards, when they actually managed to pry themselves off each other and go in her bedroom, Sara suddenly thought of something.

"Who's taking care of Bruno?" She asked worriedly.

"Catherine is. She said Lindsay would love taking care of him."

"Oh, that's good. Wait, Catherine..."

"I told her everything."

"Oh." She wasn't quite sure what to say about that.

They were quiet for a while, and then Grissom asked, "You didn't really think I'd give up, did you? Did you think I was just going to call Martin and say, "Sure, I'd love for my girlfriend to leave me and come work for you in a city she ultimately despises, whether she knows it or not. I'd love for her to work with a douchebag named Chris whose mission in life is to take her away from me. Woohoo!"

"How the hell could you even possibly know about Chris?" She asked dubiously.

"I have my sources," he said, smiling at her. She wanted to hit him.

"Yes. Yes, I did think you'd give up. I just assumed...I don't know. I didn't give you much credit and I'm very sorry, but you know, the years haven't always been good to us, Griss. We haven't always been nice to each other. Things haven't always been good. And I guess when things do go wrong, I just assume they'll keep going wrong until everything falls apart."

He turned to face her. She smiled at him. He smiled back.

"I don't know what I'm going to do now, honestly. I have no idea. But whatever it is, it's never going to be more important than you. Please understand that. It's important."

She nodded, speechless.

She was still speechless as he went on.

"I thought it would be a hard decision to make, but it really wasn't. Because, as I've come to see, I've spent my whole life working, but I've never truly been in love. And, Sara...I'm in love with you. Countless dead bodies, people lying to my face every day, the horrific crimes that we see as a normal part of our lives...I don't need that. I need you."

She was speechless the rest of the night. She was speechless when he told her to get dressed; there was somewhere he wanted to take her. She was speechless when they were in the car and he wouldn't tell her where they were going. She was speechless when he led her into the pizza joint they went to on the last day of his seminar so many years ago. She was speechless when, after she'd eaten 2 pieces of pizza with extra cheese and pineapple, he got down on one knee and presented her with the most beautiful ring she'd ever seen.

She broke her silence when she told Gil Grissom, "Yes, I will marry you."

 _Come on, you know I had to have some fluff in there!_


	20. Since I Met You

**A/N - Welp, here it is. Thanks for all the feedback, I had a really lovely time writing this. My purpose was to convey why I was so fascinated by this relationship between our two favorite geeks, and I feel like I did that. So, yay! Thanks again to GSFanatic, who gave me great ideas and thoughts and corrections and was just a really awesome beta.**

 _10 years later_

When their daughter was 6 years old, they took her to Vinnie's, the pizza place near Berkeley where Grissom proposed to Sara. While she was munching on a piece of cheese pizza, she asked her parents why they named her the way they did.

"Well, Holly was the name of the girl we hired at the lab who didn't make it past the first couple of days she worked for us," Grissom told his daughter.

"Why didn't she make it?" His inquisitive daughter asked.

"Well, a bad man did something bad to her."

"Daddy, come on, you've explained all that stuff to me before! He killed her, right?"

It was true. Grissom and Sara sat their daughter down and told her about the bad things that happened in the world so that she would know what her mommy did every day, and what her daddy used to do every day before he stopped so he could teach and stuff.

"Yes. Yes, the bad man killed Holly. And I brought your mom in to help figure out what happened. So in a way, Holly helped bring us together."

Sara smiled at her husband, and let the thought briefly go through her mind, _yeah, it only took 6 years and boom, we were together!_

"And Laura, that was your grandmother. Sara's mother died 10 years ago, from cancer. She was very influential in your mother's life, so that's why Laura is your middle name."

"So I'm named after 2 dead ladies?" Holly Laura Grissom-Sidle asked, making that face that never failed to crack her father up.

"Yes, honey, you are," Sara told her. "But they are 2 really good dead ladies."

* * *

They were married just a few months after Grissom proposed to Sara in San Francisco. She'd packed her things and went back with him to Vegas. Greg, Catherine, Warrick, Nick, Brass, even Ecklie were all there to welcome her back with open arms. She truly felt loved, more loved then she'd ever felt before.

The wedding was a small one. All the usual people from the lab were in attendance. Grissom's mother was there, and Sara tried her best to communicate with Joanne Grissom with the sign language she'd been trying to teach herself for months. Grissom told her later that his mother was very impressed with her signing skills, but she did accidentally tell his mother that she was wearing a beautiful desk.

They settled into married life with the usual trials and tribulations, but without the same issues they had before. Grissom tried hard not to completely disappear into his world, and he did a good job. He made breakfast for Sara every morning, or afternoon, or night, or whenever it was she'd get home from a long, hard shift. While she was sleeping, he'd teach a class at UNLV or do a little writing. He was working on a book based on all the things he'd seen in his life, and they both knew it was going to be a big hit.

When Sara felt frustrated about things; when she and Grissom just weren't communicating, she'd take out the letter he wrote her so many years ago. Since then, he'd written her 2 dozen more letters, but the first letter would always be the one that meant the most to her. He struggled to write it, but it was from his heart, and it would always calm her and put her in a better place.

Grissom also re-read _Moby Dick._ He entered an international chess tournament, held in Norway. He didn't win, but he did come in third. He took Sara to the rain forest, where she spent a week being fascinated by everything she came across.

They bought a small house in Santa Fe, where they would spend a week or two in the summer when it got too hot. In the winter, they'd do a little skiing. It was a nice life they had together, even if they did still struggle to let each other in sometimes. It was an exercise on learning when to be together and when to maintain their alone time, but they were making it work.

3 years after they were married, Sara got pregnant. She wasn't exactly trying, but she wasn't exactly not trying either. Either way, it wasn't a surprise to find out they were having a baby. Grissom surprised her by being completely overjoyed, especially when he found out he was having a daughter.

Holly Laura Grissom-Sidle was born into love. She had 4 uncles right away - Greg, Brass, Warrick and Nick, and grew up to love all of them. Not to mention her real uncle, Robbie, who came to visit as often as he could. Holly loved when Robbie came to visit because he'd bring Aunt Stacy, and she always brought Holly a special present. Not long after she was born, Ecklie left the lab to take a job in Texas and Catherine took his job. Sara thought long and hard about being the supervisor for the Graveyard shift, but she didn't have it in her to compete with Nick and Warrick. Besides, she had Holly and Grissom to keep her satisfied; she didn't need the stress of the Graveyard position to add to her life. She congratulated Nick heartily when he got the job. A few months later, she switched to Day shift, so she could actually fall asleep with her husband and daughter at the same time. Warrick left the lab completely to be an actual police officer. It wasn't really talked about, but Sara knew it was because he wanted to propose to Catherine. They'd been dating for a year or two and things were going well. Sara was happy they both found the love they deserved.

So the team wasn't quite what it was before, but they still hung out together. They still had the dynamic that made them such an effective team when they were intact. And Grissom loved to have everyone over for Sunday night dinner. He'd make burgers (meatless for Sara, of course) or barbecue or whatever they wanted. It was the highlight of Grissom and Sara's week, and they could tell everyone else also seemed to enjoy it.

Sara loved her life, and she knew she wouldn't have this much happiness if she never got to know her mom before she couldn't get to know her anymore. In the brief time they spent together as Laura's life came to an end, she learned that even though a person makes mistakes in their life, that doesn't mean they have to live with that guilt for the rest of their life. It is possible to move on from guilt, and Sara was glad she managed to learn that at a relatively early age.

When she watched Grissom play with their daughter, she experienced a joy she didn't know was possible. He would read to Sara's stomach when she was pregnant. He'd read science textbooks, nursery rhymes, novels, whatever sounded good at the time. And he was very pleased to discover how much she liked bugs as a toddler. She wasn't scared of ants or ladybugs like some of the other kids were. She was fascinated by them. Sara only rolled her eyes when Grissom read entomology textbooks to her like they were bedtime stories. When Grissom went out of town to do seminars or lectures, he'd take Holly with him as much as he could, and she loved it.

Holly Laura Sidle-Grissom was the product of Gil and Sara's love for each other. After so many years, after so much time lost to gazing at each other fondly but doing nothing about it, they had a daughter, a marriage, and a love for each other that was growing each day. Sara never stopped fighting for the love she knew she wanted. And when she was ready to give up, Gil stepped in and took over from there. Their love was real, real enough for the both of them, and in loving each other they let go of the past that bound them to the way they were. They were no longer the person they saw themselves as; they were now what the other thought they were capable of being. Sara was a beautiful, intelligent woman with legs to die for, and Grissom was a brilliant, sexy man who loved bugs. And they had Holly now. They were a family, and they were complete.

* * *

"So why did we come to this place, Daddy?" Holly asked Grissom, taking another bite of pizza. She loved going on trips with her parents. They even taught her how to ski on that pretty mountain in Mexico.

"Because it's me and your mother's 10 year anniversary, sweetie. This is where I asked her to marry me. It's a special place for us."

"Oh. I guess it's a special place for me, too."

Grissom kissed his daughter's nose.

"Yes, it is. You are a very smart lady, you know."

"I know," she said happily. Her parents laughed fondly.

Back at the hotel, Sara and Gil tucked their daughter into bed. She was usually a very active girl, but when she got tired, the girl was tired. She could barely keep her eyes open.

"Goodnight, honey," Grissom told her.

"Goodnight, Daddy. Are we still going to that baseball game this weekend?"

Grissom looked at Sara and smiled in victory. She just groaned. They agreed to take a road trip to Los Angeles, an 8 hour drive, before going back to Vegas so Grissom could watch an Anaheim Angels baseball game. With all the spare time on his hands, one of Grissom's favorite things to do was take in a baseball game. Sara hated baseball and Holly didn't seem to care much about it, either. He was trying to convince the two of them to go to the game with him all week. Sara told him she'd go if Holly agreed to go, too.

"Of course, sweetie. It'll be fun. But since when have you cared about baseball?"

"Since I met you," she mumbled. And then she fell asleep. And started snoring.

Grissom looked at his wife, who was touched to tears. He gathered her in his arms, and they lay down beside their daughter, taking in their life, taking in their love.

 _"I love you not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. I love you for the part of me that you bring out."_ \- Roy Croft -


End file.
